God help thee, old man, thy thoughts have created a creature in thee; and he whose intense thinking thus makes him a Prometheus; a vulture feeds upon that heart for ever; that vulture the very creature he creates.

He who is ready to despair in solitary peril, plucks up a heart in the presence of another. In a plurality of comrades is much countenance and consolation.

Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.

Wag the world how it will, Leaves must be green in Spring.

Is he mad? Anyway there's something on his mind, as sure as there must be something on a deck when it cracks.

Nothing may help or heal While Amor incensed remembers wrong.

I'll try a pagan friend, thought I, since Christian kindness has proved but hollow courtesy.