Blest Hour! It Was A

Day After Day, Day After Day, We Stuck, Nor Breath Nor Motion; As Idle As A Painted Ship Upon A Painted Ocean.

You Do Not Believe, You Only Believe That You Believe.

History Has A Point Of View; It Cannot Be All Things To All People.

Poetry Is Certainly Something More Than Good Sense, But It Must Be Good Sense, At All Events, Just As A Palace Is More Than A House, But It Must Be A House, At Least.

Fear Gives Sudden Instincts Of Skill.