How strange now, looks the life he makes us lead; So free we seem, so fettered fast we are!
Since there my past life lies, why alter it?
Genius has somewhat of the infantine; but of the childish not a touch or taint.
Night conceals a world but reveals a universe.
Over my head his arm he flung, Against the world.
I dare not so honor my mere wishes and prayers as to put them for a moment beside your noble acts; but this know, I would rather submit to the worst of deaths, so far as pain goes, than have a single dog or cat tortured on the pretence of sparing me a twinge or two.