Pure Friendship's Well-feigned Blush.

In Commitment, We Dash The Hopes Of A Thousand Potential Selves.

Pythagoras, Locke, Socrates - But Pages Might Be Filled Up, As Vainly As Before, With The Sad Usage Of All Sorts Of Sages, Who In His Life-time, Each Was Deemed A Bore! The Loftiest Minds Outrun Their Tardy Ages.

Why Do They Call Me Misanthrope? Because They Hate Me, Not I Them.

On The Ear Drops The Light Drip Of The Suspended Oar.

Constancy... That Small Change Of Love, Which People Exact So Rigidly, Receive In Such Counterfeit Coin, And Repay In Baser Metal.