Arrow-swift The Present Sweepeth, And Motionless Forever

Utility Is The Great Idol Of The Age, To Which All Powers Must Do Service And All Talents Swear Allegiance. In This Great Balance Of Utility, The Spiritual Service Of Art Has No Weight, And, Deprived Of All Encouragement, It Vanishes From The Noisy Vanity Fair Of Our Time.

The Will Of Man Is His Happiness.

Sorrows Must Die With The Joys They Outnumber.

The Storm Is Master. Man, As A Ball, Is Tossed Twixt Winds And Billows.

Youth Covets; Let Not This Covetousness Seduce You.