Dost Thou Know What A Hero Is?

Doubtless Criticism Was Originally Benignant, Pointing Out The Beauties Of A Work Rather That Its Defects. The Passions Of Men Have Made It Malignant, As A Bad Heart Of Procreates Turned The Bed, The Symbol Of Repose, Into An Instrument Of Torture.

Man Is Unjust, But God Is Just; And Finally Justice Triumphs.

The Things That Have Been And Shall Be No More, The Things That Are, And That Hereafter Shall Be, The Things That Might Have Been, And Yet Were Not, The Fading Twilight Of Joys Departed.

And The Bright Faces Of My Young Companions Are Wrinkled Like My Own, Or Are No More.

Art Is The Child Of Nature In Whom We Trace The Features Of The Mothers Face.