He In His Madness Prays For Storms,

I Am Like A Mariner Born And Bred On Board A Buccaneer Brig Whose Soul Has Become So Inured To Storm And Strife That If Cast Ashore He Would Weary And Languish No Matter How Alluring The Shady Groves And How Bright The Gentle Sun.

Out Of Life's Storm I Carried Only A Few Ideas - And Not One Feeling.

When We Retire From The Conventions Of Society And Draw Close To Nature, We Involuntarily Become Children: Each Attribute Acquired By Experience Falls Away From The Soul, Which Becomes Anew Such As It Was Once And Will Surely Be Again.

For What Did The Creator Prepare Me,why Did He So Terribly Contradictthe Hopes Of My Youth?

If Only People Thought A Little More About It, They Would See That Life Is Not Worrying About So Much.