Cynicism Is Intellectual Dandyism.

She Poured A Little Social Sewage Into His Ears.

It Is The Devil's Masterstroke To Get Us To Accuse Him

But O The Truth, The Truth. The Many Eyes That Look On It The Diverse Things They See.

As We To The Brutes, Poets Are To Us.

Sunrays, Leaning On Our Southern Hills And Lighting Wild Cloud-mountains That Drag The Hills Along, Oft Ends The Day Of Your Shifting Brilliant Laughter Chill As A Dull Face Frowning On A Song. Ay, But Shows The South-west A Ripple-feathered Bosom Blown To Silver While The Clouds Are Shaken And Ascend Scaling The Mid-heavens As They Stream, There Comes A Sunset Rich, Deep Like Love In Beauty Without End.