And Striving To Be Man, The Worm

I Hate The Giving Of The Hand Unless The Whole Man Accompanies It.

The Ancestor Of Every Action Is A Thought.

A Man Is Known By The Books He Reads.

A Man's Library Is A Sort Of Harem.

Come, See The North-wind's Masonry, Out Of An Unseen Quarry Evermore Furnished With Tile, The Fierce Artificer Curves His White Bastions With Projected Roof Round Every Windward Stake, Or Tree, Or Door. Speeding, The Myriad-handed, His Wild Work So Fanciful, So Savage, Naught Cares He For Number Or Proportion.