Words Have No Power To

With Me Poetry Has Been Not A Purpose, But A Passion; And The Passions Should Be Held In Reverence: They Must Not They Cannot At Will Be Excited, With An Eye To The Paltry Compensations, Or The More Paltry Commendations, Of Mankind.

In For Ever Knowing, We Are For Ever Blessed; But To Know All Were The Curse Of A Fiend

To Observe Attentively Is To Remember Distinctly.

I Remained Too Much Inside My Head And Ended Up Losing My Mind.

There Are Certain Themes Of Which The Interest Is All-absorbing, But Which Are Too Entirely Horrible For The Purposes Of Legitimate Fiction.