Our Faults Are Apt To

From My Birth I Have Aspired Like The Eagle - But Unlike The Eagle, My Wings Have Failed. . . . Congratulate Me Then That I Have Found A Fitting Scope For My Powers.

Invention Consists In The Capacity Of Seizing On The Capabilities Of A Subject, And In The Power Of Moulding And Fashioning Ideas Suggested To It.

My Reign Is Not Yet Over... You Live, And My Power Is Complete. Follow Me; I Seek The Everlasting Ices Of The North, Where You Will Feel The Misery Of Cold And Frost To Which I Am Impassive. You Will Find Near This Place, If You Follow Not Too Tardily, A Dead Hare; Eat And Be Refreshed. Come On, My Enemy; We Have Yet To Wrestle For Our Lives; But Many Hard And Miserable Hours Must You Endure Until That Period Shall Arrive.

My Spirit Will Sleep In Peace; Or If It Thinks, It Will Not Surely Think Thus. Farewell.

But Her's Was The Misery Of Innocence, Which, Like A Cloud That Passes Over The Fair Moon, For A While Hides, But Cannot Tarnish Its Brightness.