And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!
In solitude, when we are least alone.
Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; the best of life is but intoxication.
I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse borne away with every breath! Misplaced upon the throne misplaced in life. I know not what I could have been, but feel I am not what I should be let it end.
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
We have fools in all sects, and impostors in most; why should I believe mysteries no one can understand, because written by men who chose to mistake madness for inspiration and style themselves Evangelicals?