Has anyone...any distinct notion of what poets of a stronger age understood by the word inspiration? ... There is an ecstasy such that the immese strain of it is sometimes relaxed by a flood of tears, along with which one's steps either rush or involuntarily lag, alternately. There is the feeling that one is completely out of hand, with the very distinct consciousness of an endless number of fine thrills and quiverings to the very toes... Everything happens quite involuntarily, as if in a tempestuous outburst of freedom, of absoluteness, of power and divinity.
For the Warrior of Light there is no such thing as an impossible love. He is not intimidated by silence, indifference or rejection. He knows that, behind the mask of ice that people wear, there beats a heart of fire. Without love, he is nothing.
"The Newspaper That Obstructs The Law On A Trivial Pretext, For Money's Sake, Is A Dangerous Enemy To The Public Weal. That Awful Power, The Public Opinion Of A Nation, Is Created In America By A Horde Of Ignorant, Self-complacent Simpletons Who Failed At Ditching And Shoemaking And Fetched Up In Journalism On Their Way To The Poorhouse."