Wild Above Rule Or Art,

The Sun To Me Is Dark And Silent As The Moon, When She Deserts The Night Hid In Her Vacant Interlunar Cave.

Beauty Is Nature's Coin, Must Not Be Hoarded, But Must Be Current, And The Good Thereof Consists In Mutual And Partaken Bliss.

All Is Not Lost, The Unconquerable Will, And Study Of Revenge, Immortal Hate, And The Courage Never To Submit Or Yield.

But O Yet More Miserable! Myself My Sepulchre, A Moving Grave.

Our Reason Is Our Law.