Be Ashamed To Die Until You Have

Injustice Alone Can Shake Down The Pillars Of The Skies, And Restore The Reign Of Chaos And Night.

Love Must Be The Same In All Worlds.

Both Poetry And Philosophy Are Prodigal Of Eulogy Over The Mind Which Ransoms Itself By Its Own Energy From A Captivity To Custom, Which Breaks The Common Bounds Of Empire, And Cuts A Simplon Over Mountains Of Difficulty For Its Own Purposes, Whether Of Good Or Of Evil.

In Trying To Teach Children A Great Deal In A Short Time, They Are Treated Not As Though The Race They Were To Run Was For Life, But Simply A Three-mile Heat.

Even The Choicest Literature Should Be Taken As The Condiment, And Not As The Sustenance Of Life. It Should Be Neither The Warp Nor The Woof Of Existence, But Only The Flowery Edging Upon Its Borders.