I Am Not A Person Of Opinions

If You Will Comply With My Conditions, I Will Leave Them And You At Peace; But If You Refuse, I Will Glut The Maw Of Death, Until It Be Satiated With The Blood Of Your Remaining Friends.

The World To Me Was A Secret, Which I Desired To Discover; To Her It Was A Vacancy, Which She Sought To People With Imaginations Of Her Own.

Oh! Grief Is Fantastic; It Weaves A Web On Which To Trace The History Of Its Woe From Every Form And Change Around; It Incorporates Itself With All Living Nature; It Finds Sustenance In Every Object; As Light, It Fills All Things, And, Like Light, It Gives Its Own Colors To All.

I Expected This Reception. All Men Hate The Wretched; How, Then, Must I Be Hated, Who Am Miserable Beyond All Living Things! Yet You, My Creator, Detest And Spurn Me, Thy Creature, To Whom Thou Art Bound By Ties Only Dissoluble By The Annihilation Of One Of Us. You Purpose To Kill Me. How Dare You Sport Thus With Life? Do Your Duty Towards Me, And I Will Do Mine Towards You And The Rest Of Mankind. If You Will Comply With My Conditions, I Will Leave Them And You At Peace; But If You Refuse, I Will Glut The Maw Of Death, Until It Be Satiated With The Blood Of Your Remaining Friends.

The Time At Length Arrives, When Grief Is Rather An Indulgence Than A Necessity And The Smile That Plays Upon The Lips, Although It May Be Deemed A Sacrilege, Is Not Banished.