All Men Need Something To Poetize And

Greatness Is Its Own Torment.

Love Of Truth Will Bless The Lover All His Days; Yet When He Brings Her Home, His Fair-faced Bride, She Comes Empty-handed To His Door, Herself Her Only Dower.

Religion Without Joy-it Is No Religion.

Temperance Is Corporeal Piety; It Is The Preservation Of Divine Order In The Body.

It Seems Strange That A Butterfly's Wing Should Be Woven Up So Thin And Gauzy In The Monstrous Loom Of Nature, And Be So Delicately Tipped With Fire From Such A Gross Hand, And Rainbowed All Over In Such A Storm Of Thunderous Elements. The Marvel Is That Such Great Forces Do Such Nice Work.