Egypt! from whose all dateless tombs arose Forgotten Pharaohs from their long repose, And shook within their pyramids to hear A new Cambyses thundering in their ear; While the dark shades of forty ages stood Like startled giants by Nile's famous flood.

Rough Johnson, the great moralist.

Think not I am what I appear.

My hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears.

In general I do not draw well with literary men -- not that I dislike them but I never know what to say to them after I have praised their last publication.

Frienship is eros...without wings

Let joy be unconfined.