Art Is Difficult, Transient Is Her Reward.

The Iron Chain And The Silken Cord Are Both Equally Bonds.

Virtue Is No Empty Echo.

Futurity Is Impregnable To Mortal Ken: No Prayer Pierces Through Heaven's Adamantine Walls. Whether The Birds Fly Right Or Left, Whatever Be The Aspect Of The Stars, The Book Of Nature Is A Maze, Dreams Are A Lie, And Every Sign A Falsehood.

The Storm Is Master. Man, As A Ball, Is Tossed Twixt Winds And Billows.

As Soon As I Have Begun To Fear I Have Ceased To Fear.