I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me: and to me High mountains are a feeling, but the hum of human cities torture.

A mistress never is nor can be a friend. While you agree, you are lovers; and when it is over, anything but friends.

He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him.

What's drinking? A mere pause from thinking!

The great object of life is Sensation - to feel that we exist - even though in pain - it is this "craving void" which drives us to gaming - to battle - to travel - to intemperate but keenly felt pursuits of every description whose principal attraction is the agitation inseparable from their accomplishment.

Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime!

My turn of mind is so given to taking things in the absurd point of view, that it breaks out in spite of me every now and then.