Fold him in his country's stars. Roll the drum and fire the volley! What to him are all our wars, What but death bemocking folly?

- George Henry Boker

Love is that orbit of the restless soulWhose circle grazes the confines of space,Bounding within the limits of its raceUtmost extremes.

- George Henry Boker

...Lovers are Like walking ghosts, they always haunt the spot Of their misdeeds.

- George Henry Boker