Of Course Poets Have Morals

So Each Had A Private Little Sun For Her Soul To Bask In; Some Dream, Some Affection, Some Hobby, Or At Least Some Remote And Distant Hope.

A Lover Without Indiscretion Is No Lover At All.

You Concede Nothing To Me And I Have To Concede Everything To You.

We Learn That It Is Not The Rays Which Bodies Absorb, But Those Which They Reject, That Give Them The Colours They Are Known By; And In The Same Way People Are Specialized By Their Dislikes And Antagonisms, Whilst Their Goodwill Is Looked Upon As No Attribute At All.

Black Chaos Comes, And The Fettered Gods Of The Earth Say, Let There Be Light.