I cannot describe to you the despairing sensation of trying to do something for a man who seems incapable or unwilling to do anything further for himself.

Our life is two fold Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality.

When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter." And proved it--'t was no matter what he said.

The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.

Yet smelt roast meat, beheld a huge fire shine, And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared.

For the night Shows stars and women in a better light.

It is not for minds like ours to give or to receive flatter; yet the praises of sincerity have ever been permitted to the voice of friendship