By all means use some time to be alone.

It calls Devotion! genuine growth of night! Devotion! Daughter of Astronomy! An undevout astronomer is mad!

The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay, Provides a home from which to run away.

However smothered under former negligence, or scattered through the dull, dark mass of common thoughts - let thy genius rise as the sun from chaos.

Creation sleeps! 'T is as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause,- An awful pause! prophetic of her end.

Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow.

They build too low who build beneath the skies.