Life, Although It May Only

I Cherished Hope, It Is True, But It Vanished When My Person Reflected . . .

Elegance Is Inferior To Virtue.

You Will Rejoice To Hear That No Disaster Has Accompanied The Commencement Of An Enterprise Which You Have Regarded With Such Evil Forebodings.

But I Am A Blasted Tree; The Bolt Has Entered My Soul; And I Felt Then That I Should Survive To Exhibit What I Shall Soon Cease To Be - A Miserable Spectacle Of Wrecked Humanity, Pitiable To Others And Intolerable To Myself.

The Time At Length Arrives, When Grief Is Rather An Indulgence Than A Necessity And The Smile That Plays Upon The Lips, Although It May Be Deemed A Sacrilege, Is Not Banished.