How Mutable Are Our Feelings,

What Terrified Me Will Terrify Others; And I Need Only Describe The Spectre Which Had Haunted My Midnight Pillow.

Thus Strangely Are Our Souls Constructed, And By Slight Ligaments Are We Bound To Prosperity And Ruin.

Look Forward To Future Years, If Not With Eager Anticipation, Yet With A Calm Reliance Upon The Power Of Good, Wholly Remote From Despair.

Ah! It Is Well For The Unfortunate To Be Resigned, But For The Guilty There Is No Peace.

I Am Alone And Miserable. Only Someone As Ugly As I Am Could Love Me.