Night brings out stars as sorrow shows us truths.
How slight a chance may raise or sink a soul!
Leave the poor Some time for self-improvement. Let them not Be forced to grind the bones out of their arms For bread, but have some space to think and feel Like moral and immortal creatures.
Love spends his all, and still hath store.
Simplicity is natures first step, and the last of art.
Hell is more bearable than nothingness.