And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.
That prose is a verse, and verse is a prose; convincing all, by demonstrating plain – poetic souls delight in prose insane
Switzerland is a curst, selfish, swinish country of brutes, placed in the most romantic region of the world.
This is to be along; this, this is solitude!
In solitude, where we are least alone.
The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed. I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.