A Timid Mind Is Apt To Mistake

I Have A Great Mind To Believe In Christianity For The Mere Pleasure Of Fancying I May Be Damned.

There Is No Passion, More Spectral Or Fantastical Than Hate, Not Even Its Opposite, Love, So Peoples Air, With Phantoms, As This Madness Of The Heart.

Years Steal Fire From The Mind As Vigor From The Limb; And Life's Enchanted Cup But Sparkles Near The Brim.

I Should, Many A Good Day, Have Blown My Brains Out, But For The Recollection That It Would Have Given Pleasure To My Mother-in-law.

Out Of Chaos God Made A World, And Out Of High Passions Comes A People.