Utopias Are Often Just Premature Truths.

Fiction Is The Microscope Of Truth.

Death, With Funereal Shades In Vain Surrounds Me, My Reason Through His Darkness Seeth Light: 'tis The Last Step Which Brings Me Close To Thee: 'tis The Veil Falling, 'twixt Thy Face And Mine.

Let Us Enjoy The Fugitive Hour. Man Has No Harbor, Time Has No Shore; It Rushes On, And Carries Us With It.

Women Have Much More Heart And Much More Imagination Than Men; Hence, Fancy Often Allures Them.

Exquisite Beauty Resides Rather In The Female Form Than Face, Where It Is Also More Lasting.