There Is Room In The Smallest Cottage

On Dreary Night Let Lusty Sunshine Fall.

Opposition Always Inflames The Enthusiast, Never Converts Him.

Fate Always Wins, For Our Own Heart Within Us Imperiously Furthers Its Designs.

Even Now, Nature Is The Only Flame, On Which The Poetic Spirit Feeds; From It Alone It Draws All Its Power, To It Alone It Speaks Even In The Artificial, In The Man Engaged In Culture.

In Love, Jealousy Is The Great Exaggerator.