I Am Always Insincere, As Always Knowing

Every Vice Is Only An Exaggeration Of A Necessary And Virtuous Function.

Little Minds Have Little Worries, Big Minds Have No Time For Worries.

For It Is Not Metres, But A Metre-making Argument That Makes A Poem.

I Wish To Write Such Rhymes As Shall Not Suggest A Restraint, But Contrariwise The Wildest Freedom.

How Many Attractions For Us Have Our Passing Fellows In The Streets, Both Male And Female, Which Our Ethics Forbid Us To Express, Which Yet Infuse So Much Pleasure Into Life. A Lovely Child, A Handsome Youth, A Beautiful Girl, A Heroic Man, A Maternal Woman, A Venerable Old Man, Charm Us, Though Strangers, And We Cannot Say So, Or Look At Them But For A Moment.