The Highest Price We Can Pay For

Was Genius Ever Ungrateful? Mere Talents Are Dry Leaves, Tossed Up And Down By Gusts Of Passion, And Scattered And Swept Away; But, Genius Lies On The Bosom Of Memory, And Gratitude At Her Feet.

Be Assured That, Although Men Of Eminent Genius Have Been Guilty Of All Other Vices, None Worthy Of More Than A Secondary Name Has Ever Been A Gamester. Either An Excess Of Avarice Or A Deficiency Of What, In Physics, Is Called Excitability, Is The Cause Of It; Neither Of Which Can Exist In The Same Bosom With Genius, With Patriotism, Or With Virtue.

Two Evils, Of Almost Equal Weight, May Befall The Man Of Erudition; Never To Be Listened To, And To Be Listened To Always.

But I Have Sinuous Shells Of Pearly Hue Within, And They That Lustre Have Imbibed In The Sun's Palace-porch, Where When Unyoked Chariot-wheel Stands Midway In The Wave: Shake One, And It Awakens; Then Apply Its Polisht Lips To Your Attentive Ear, And It Remembers Its August Abodes, And Murmurs As The Ocean Murmurs There.

There Is Delight In Singing, Though None Hear Beside The Singer.