Resolved To Ruin Or To

The True Amphitryon Is The Amphitryon Where We Dine.

Fiction Is Of The Essence Of Poetry As Well As Of Painting; There Is A Resemblance In One Of Human Bodies, Things, And Actions Which Are Not Real, And In The Other Of A True Story By Fiction.

Time And Death Shall Depart And Say In Flying Love Has Found Out A Way To Live, By Dying.

To Take Up Half On Trust, And Half To Try, Name It Not Faith But Bungling Bigotry.

Tomorrow Do Thy Worst, For I Have Lived Today: Be Fair Or Foul Or Rain Or Shine, The Joys I Have Possessed In Spite Of Fate Are Mine. Not Heaven Itself Upon The Past Has Power; But What Has Been Has Been, And I Have Had My Hour.