Every poem should remind the reader that they are going to die.

I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.

We allude to the short prose narrative, requiring from a half hour to one or two hours in its perusal

In efforts to soar above our nature, we invariably fall below it.

Invisible things are the only realities.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch's high estate; (Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow Shall dawn upon him desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.

Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest can be made.