This Is The Age Of Oddities Let

A Timid Mind Is Apt To Mistake Every Scratch For A Mortal Wound.

Grief Is Fantastical, And Loves The Dead, And The Apparel Of The Grave.

I Have Simplified My Politics Into An Utter Detestation Of All Existing Governments; And, As It Is The Shortest And Most Agreeable And Summary Feeling Imaginable, The First Moment Of An Universal Republic Would Convert Me Into An Advocate For Single And Uncontradicted Despotism. The Fact Is, Riches Are Power, And Poverty Is Slavery All Over The Earth, And One Sort Of Establishment Is No Better, Nor Worse, For A People Than Another.

She Was Like Me In Lineaments-- Her Eyes Her Hair, Her Features, All, To The Very Tone Even Of Her Voice, They Said Were Like To Mine; But Soften'd All, And Temper'd Into Beauty; She Had The Same Lone Thoughts And Wanderings, The Quest Of Hidden Knowledge, And A Mind To Comprehend The Universe: Nor These Alone, But With Them Gentler Powers Than Mine, Pity, And Smiles, And Tears-- Which I Had Not; And Tenderness-- But That I Had For Her; Humility-- And That I Never Had. Her Faults Were Mine-- Her Virtues Were Her Own-- I Loved Her, And Destroy'd Her!

A Man Of Eighty Has Outlived Probably Three New Schools Of Painting, Two Of Architecture And Poetry And A Hundred In Dress.