The world is a great ocean, upon which we encounter more tempestuous storms than calms.

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore.

If I could dwell where Israfel hath dwelt and he where I he might not sing so wildly well a mortal melody while a bolder note then this might swell from my lyre in the sky.

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.

Art is to look at not to criticize.

The world is a great ocean, upon which we encounter more tempestuous storms than calms.

There was a discordant hum of human voices! There was a loud blast as of many trumpets! There was a harsh grating as of a thousand thunders! The fiery walls rushed back! An outstretched arm caught my own as I fell, fainting, into the abyss. It was that of General Lasalle. The French army had entered Toledo. The Inquisition was in the hands of its enemies.