Society is now one polished horde, formed of two mighty tries, the Bores and Bored.

A small drop of ink makes thousands, perhaps millions... think.

Many are poets, but without the name;For what is Poesy but to createFrom overfeeling Good or Ill; and aimAt an external life beyond our fate,And be the new Prometheus of new men,Bestowing fire from Heaven, and then, too late,Finding the pleasure given repaid with pain

And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee.

Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go it is useless to inquire - in the midst of myriads of the living and the dead worlds, stars, systems, infinity, why should I be anxious about an atom?

Man's love is of man's life a part; it is a woman's whole existence. In her first passion, a woman loves her lover, in all the others all she loves is love.

Romances paint at full length people's wooing. But only give a bust of marriages.