I Am The Very Slave Of Circumstance

What An Antithetical Mind! - Tenderness, Roughness - Delicacy, Coarseness - Sentiment, Sensuality - Soaring And Groveling, Dirt And Deity - All Mixed Up In That One Compound Of Inspired Clay!

For A Man To Become A Poet (witness Petrarch And Dante), He Must Be In Love, Or Miserable.

The Basis Of Your Religion Is Injustice. The Son Of God The Pure, The Immaculate, The Innocent, Is Sacrificed For The Guilty. This Proves His Heroism, But No More Does Away With Man's Sin Than A School Boy's Volunteering To Be Flogged For Another Would Exculpate A Dunce From Negligence.

Pure Friendship's Well-feigned Blush.

I Speak Not Of Men's Creeds—they Rest Between Man And His Maker.