Write . . . Write . .

Nature, Like A True Poet, Abhors Abrupt Transitions.

I Call'd The Devil, And He Came, And With Wonder His Form Did I Closely Scan; He Is Not Ugly, And Is Not Lame, But Really A Handsome And Charming Man. A Man In The Prime Of Life Is The Devil, Obliging, A Man Of The World, And Civil; A Diplomatist Too, Well Skill'd In Debate, He Talks Quite Glibly Of Church And State.

I Do Not Know The Meaning Of My Sadness; There Is An Old Fairy Tale That I Cannot Get Out Of My Mind.

You Talk Of Our Having An Idea; We Do Not Have An Idea. The Idea Has Us, And Martyrs Us, And Scourges Us, And Drives Us Into The Arena To Fight And Die For It, Whether We Want To Or Not.

All Special Charters Of Freedom Must Be Abrogated Where The Universal Law Of Freedom Is To Flourish.