I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.
There is nothing stable in the world; uproar's your only music.
There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.
I have an habitual feeling of my real life having past, and that I am leading a posthumous existence.
Ay, on the shores of darkness there is a light, and precipices show untrodden green; there is a budding morrow in midnight; there is triple sight in blindness keen.
The days of peace and slumberous calm are fled.