I do not want sacrifice, sorrow, dissolution - - such is not my taste. I wish to foster, not to blight - - to earn gratitude, not to wring tears of blood - - no, nor of brine: my harvest must be in smiles, in endearments, in sweet - - That will do. I think I rave in a kind of exquisite delirium. I should wish now to protract this moment ad infinitum; but I dare not. So far I have governed myself thoroughly. I have acted as I inwardly swore I would act; but further might try me beyond my strength.
Comments will not be approved to be posted if they are SPAM, abusive, off-topic, use profanity, contain a personal attack, or promote hate of any kind.