Miscall Quotes
More Miscall Quotes
He has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again; From the contagion of the world's slow stain He is secure, and now can never mourn A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain.
Percy Bysshe Shelley— St. XL (Adonais (1821))
