Happiness Is Not To Be

It Was Night, And The Rain Fell; And Falling, It Was Rain, But, Having Fallen, It Was Blood.

Even With The Utterly Lost, To Whom Life And Death Are Equally Jests, There Are Matters Of Which No Jest Can Be Made.

I Seemed To Be Upon The Verge Of Comprehension, Without The Power To Comprehend As Men, At Time, Find Themselves Upon The Brink Of Rememberance, Without Being Able, In The End, To Remember.

I Am Actuated By An Ambition Which I Believe To Be An Honourable One — The Ambition Of Serving The Great Cause Of Truth, While Endeavouring To Forward The Literature Of The Country.

How Many Good Books Suffer Neglect Through The Inefficiency Of Their Beginnings!