Life Is But Sighs; And,

Heat And Animosity, Contest And Conflict, May Sharpen The Wits, Although They Rarely Do; They Never Strengthen The Understanding, Clear The Perspicacity, Guide The Judgment, Or Improve The Heart.

That Which Moveth The Heart Most Is The Best Poetry; It Comes Nearest Unto God, The Source Of All Power.

Cruelty, If We Consider It As A Crime, Is The Greatest Of All; If We Consider It As A Madness, We Are Equally Justifiable In Applying To It The Readiest And The Surest Means Of Oppression.

I Have Since Written What No Tide Shall Ever Wash Away, What Men Unborn Shall Read O'er Ocean Wide And Find Ianthe's Name Agen.

Not Dancing Well, I Never Danced At All--and How Grievously Has My Heart Ached When Others Where In The Full Enjoyment Of That Conversation Which I Had No Right Even To Partake.