The Silver, Snarling Trumpets 'gan

On A Lone Winter Evening, When The Frost Has Wrought A Silence.

Land And Sea, Weakness And Decline Are Great Separators, But Death Is The Great Divorcer For Ever.

I Never Can Feel Certain Of Any Truth, But From A Clear Perception Of Its Beauty.

My Mind Has Been The Most Discontented And Restless One That Ever Was Put Into A Body Too Small For It.

The Public - A Thing I Cannot Help Looking Upon As An Enemy, And Which I Cannot Address Without Feelings Of Hostility.