He Is Noble Who Both Feels And

Oh, What Lies There Are In Kisses.

Lo, Sleep Is Good, Better Is Death--in Sooth The Best Of All Were Never To Be Born.

The Swan, Like The Soul Of The Poet, By The Dull World Is Ill Understood.

First, I Thought, Almost Despairing, This Must Crush My Spirit Now; Yet I Bore It, And Am Bearing- Only Do Not Ask Me How.

Silence Is The Essential Condition Of Happiness.