And now, once again, I bid my hideous progeny go forth and prosper. I have an affection for it, for it was the offspring of happy days, when death and grief were but words, which found no true echo in my heart.

The moon gazed on my midnight labours, while, with unrelaxed and breathless eagerness, I pursued nature to her hiding places.

I am alone and miserable. Only someone as ugly as I am could love me.

The time at length arrives, when grief is rather an indulgence than a necessity and the smile that plays upon the lips, although it may be deemed a sacrilege, is not banished.

Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.

Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity and ruin.

The very winds whispered in soothing accents, and maternal Nature bade me weep no more.