The best of prophets of the future is the past. - Lord Byron

Letter writing is the only device combining solitude with good company.

She was like me in lineaments — her eyes
Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone
Even of her voice, they said were like to mine;
But soften'd all, and temper'd into beauty;
She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings,
The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind
To comprehend the universe: nor these
Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine,
Pity, and smiles, and tears — which I had not;
And tenderness — but that I had for her;
Humility — and that I never had.
Her faults were mine — her virtues were her own — I loved her, and destroy'd her!

Why do they call me misanthrope? Because They hate me, not I them.