Beware The People Weeping When

One Would Like To Know, What Were Foes Made For Except To Be Used?

Better Be Secure Under One King, Than Exposed To Violence From Twenty Millions Of Monarchs, Though Oneself Be One Of Them.

All The World Over, The Picturesque Yields To The Pocketesque.

My Means Are Sane, My Motives And My Object Mad.

There Is One Knows Not What Sweet Mystery About This Sea, Whose Gently Awful Stirrings Seem To Speak Of Some Hidden Soul Beneath.