Words Are The Motes Of Thought, And

Where Doubt There Truth Is - 'tis Her Shadow.

Evil Is Limited. One Cannot Form A Scheme For Universal Evil.

I Cannot Love As I Have Loved, And Yet I Know Not Why; It Is The One Great Woe Of Life To Feel All Feeling Die.

Ah, Nothing Comes To Us Too Soon But Sorrow.

For As Nightingales Do Upon Glow-worms Feed, So Poets Live Upon The Living Light.