The Breach Of Custom Is

I Could Be Well Content To Entertain The Lag-end Of My Life With Quiet Hours.

Reputation, Reputation, Reputation! O, I Ha' Lost My Reputation, I Ha' Lost The Immortal Part Of Myself, And What Remains Is Bestial!

My Love Admits No Qualifying Dross

I Am Wrapped In Dismal Thinking.

To Hold, As 't Were, The Mirror Up To Nature.