He is, as you say, a remarkable horse, a prodigious horse, although as you very justly observe, a suspicious and untractable character.

Scorching my seared heart with a pain, not hell shall make me fear again.

The realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became, in turn,—not the material of my every-day existence--but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself.

The nose of a mob is its imagination. By this, at any time, it can be quietly led.

The death of a beautiful woman, is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world.

Once upon a midnight dreary

A mystery, and a dream, should my early life seem.