A Late Lark Twitters From The Quiet

The Life Of Dumas Is Not Only A Monument Of Endeavour And Success, It Is A Sort Of Labyrinth As Well. It Abounds In Pseudonyms And Disguises, In Sudden And Unexpected Appearances And Retreats As Unexpected And Sudden, In Scandals And In Rumours, In Mysteries And Traps And Ambuscades Of Every Kind.

Men There Have Been Who Have Done The Essayist's Part So Well As To Have Earned An Immortality In The Doing; But We Have Had Not Many Of Them, And They Make But A Poor Figure On Our Shelves. It Is A Pity That Things Should Be Thus With Us, For A Good Essayist Is The Pleasantest Companion Imaginable.

[t]hey Stretch You On A Table. Then They Bid You Close Your Eyelids, And They Mask You With A Napkin, And The Anæsthetic Reaches Hot And Subtle Through Your Being.

It Matters Not How Strait The Gate, How Charged With Punishments The Scroll; I Am The Master Of My Fate: I Am The Captain Of My Soul.

Shakespeare And Rembrandt Have In Common The Faculty Of Quickening Speculation And Compelling The Minds Of Men To Combat And Discussion.