The Heart Of Silver Falls Ever Into

Music Is Not A Science Any More Than Poetry Is. It Is A Sublime Instinct, Like Genius Of All Kinds.

Talent Wears Well, Genius Wears Itself Out; Talent Drives A Snug Brougham In Fact; Genius, A Sun-chariot In Fancy.

Why Is Youth So Short And Age So Long?

Death! It Is Rest To The Aged, It Is Oblivion To The Atheist, It Is Immortality To The Poet!

Flowers Belong To Fairyland: The Flowers And The Birds And The Butterflies Are All That The World Has Kept Of Its Golden Age--the Only Perfectly Beautiful Things On Earth--joyous, Innocent, Half Divine--useless, Say They Who Are Wiser Than God.