As The Purse Is Emptied,

Rhyme, That Enslaved Queen, That Supreme Charm Of Our Poetry, That Creator Of Our Meter.

Genius: The Superhuman In Man.

I Only Take A Half Share In The Civil War; I Am Willing To Die, I Am Not Willing To Kill.

If Nobody Loved, The Sun Would Go Out.

Death Belongs To God Alone; By What Right Do Men Touch That Unknown Thing?