A Dream Has Power To Poison Sleep.

The Pleasure That Is In Sorrow Is Sweeter Than The Pleasure Of Pleasure Itself.

The Warm Sun Is Failing, The Bleak Wind Is Wailing, The Bare Boughs Are Sighing, The Pale Flowers Are Dying, And The Year On The Earth Her Death-bed, In A Shroud Of Leaves Dead, Is Lying. . . .

This Is Heaven, When Pain And Evil Cease, And When The Benignant Principle, Untrammelled And Uncontrolled, Visits In The Fulness Of Its Power The Universal Frame Of Things.

Let There Be Light! Said Liberty , And Like Sunrise From The Sea, Athens Arose!

Tragedy Delights By Affording A Shadow Of The Pleasure Which Exists In Pain.