I Have Nothing To Speak

How I Like Claret!...it Fills One's Mouth With A Gushing Freshness, Then Goes Down To Cool And Feverless; Then, You Do Not Feel It Quarrelling With One's Liver. No; 'tis Rather A Peace-maker, And Lies As Quiet As It Did In The Grape. Then It Is As Fragrant As The Queen Bee, And The More Ethereal Part Mounts Into The Brain, Not Assaulting The Cerebral Apartments, Like A Bully Looking For His Trull, And Hurrying From Door To Door, Bouncing Against The Wainscott, But Rather Walks Like Aladdin About His Enchanted Palace, So Gently That You Do Not Feel His Step.

No One Can Usurp The Heights... But Those To Whom The Miseries Of The World Are Misery, And Will Not Let Them Rest.

Oh What Can Ail Thee, Knight-at-arms, Alone And Palely Loitering?

A Thing Of Beauty Is A Joy Forever.

I Wish You Could Invent Some Means To Make Me At All Happy Without You. Every Hour I Am More And More Concentrated In You; Everything Else Tastes Like Chaff In My Mouth.