But Soon, I Shall Die, And What

Life, Although It May Only Be An Accumulation Of Anguish, Is Dear To Me, And I Will Defend It.

My Dreams Were At Once More Fantastic And Agreeable Than My Writings.

All Men Hate The Wretched; How, Then, Must I Be Hated, Who Am Miserable Beyond All Living Things! Yet You, My Creator, Detest And Spurn Me, Thy Creature, To Whom Thou Are Bound By Ties Only Dissoluble By The Annihilation Of One Of Us.

In Other Studies You Go As Far As Other Have Gone Before You, And There Is Nothing More To Know; But In A Scientific Pursuit There Is Continual Food For Discovery And Wonder.

I Also Became A Poet, And For One Year Lived In A Paradise Of My Own Creation; I Imagined That I Also Might Obtain A Niche In The Temple Where The Names Of Homer And Shakespeare Are Consecrated.