He who would search for pearls must dive below.
To so perverse a sex all grace is vain.
He trudged along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
Not to ask is not be denied.
And plenty makes us poor.
Fiction is of the essence of poetry as well as of painting; there is a resemblance in one of human bodies, things, and actions which are not real, and in the other of a true story by fiction.