He Who Surpasses Or Subdues Mankind, Must

A Little Still She Strove, And Much Repented, And Whispering “i Will Ne'er Consent”—consented.

Yet Smelt Roast Meat, Beheld A Huge Fire Shine, And Cooks In Motion With Their Clean Arms Bared.

I Am Acquainted With No Immaterial Sensuality So Delightful As Good Acting.

Rough Johnson, The Great Moralist.

My Slumbers--if I Slumber--are Not Sleep, But A Continuance Of Enduring Thought, Which Then I Can Resist Not: In My Heart There Is A Vigil, And These Eyes But Close To Look Within; And Yet I Live, And Bear The Aspect And The Form Of Breathing Men.