I was Byron and Shakespeare formerly.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;... There to abide with my Creator, God.

I live here among the ignorant like a lost man in fact like one whom the rest seems careless of having anything to do with — they hardly dare talk in my company for fear I shoud mention them in my writings & I find more pleasure in wandering the fields then in mixing among my silent neighbours who are insensible of everything but toiling & talking of it & that to no purpose.

I am gennerally understood tho I do not use that awkward squad of pointings called commas colons semicolons etc.

In mid-wood silence, thus, how sweet to be; Where all the noises, that on peace intrude, Come from the chittering cricket, bird, and bee, Whose songs have charms to sweeten solitude.

I am the self-consumer of my woes.

The present is the funeral of the past, And man the living sepulchre of life.