Only those in the last stage of disease could believe that children are true judges of character.
Harrow the house of the dead; look shining at / New styles of architecture, a change of heart.
Poor Poe! At first so forgotten that his grave went without a tomb-stone twenty-six years. . . today in danger of becoming the life study of a few professors.
Private faces in public places / Are wiser and nicer / Than public faces in private places.
The stars are dead; the animals will not look:/ We are left alone with our day, and the time is short and / History to the defeated / May say Alas but cannot help or pardon.
