Every Where I See Bliss, From Which

For A Moment My Soul Was Elevated From Its Debasing And Miserable Fears To Which These Sights Were The Monuments And The Remembrances. For An Instant I Dared To Shake Off My Chains, And Look Around Me With A Free And Lofty Spirit; But The Iron Had Eaten Into My Flesh, And I Sank Again, Trembling And Hopeless, Into My Miserable Self.

Elegance Is Inferior To Virtue.

I Feel Exquisite Pleasure In Dwelling On The Recollections Of Childhood, Before Misfortune Had Tainted My Mind, And Changed Its Bright Visions Of Extensive Usefulness Into Gloomy And Narrow Reflections Upon Self.

I Leave A Sad And Bitter World; And If You Remember Me, And Think Of Me As Of One Unjustly Condemned, I Am Resigned To The Fate Awaiting Me.

...if I See But One Smile On Your Lips When We Meet, Occasioned By This Or Any Other Exertion Of Mine, I Shall Need No Other Happiness.