Drive Out Nature With A Fork, She

Work And Acquire, And Thou Hast Chained The Wheel Of Chance.

There Are Some Men Above Grief And Some Men Below It.

[on Thoreau:] For Not A Particle Of Respect Had He To The Opinions Of Any Man Or Body Of Men, But Homage Solely To Truth Itself.

Every Man's Nature Is A Sufficient Advertisement To Him Of The Character Of His Fellows.

He Who Loves The Bristle Of Bayonets Only Sees In The Glitter What Beforehand He Feels In His Heart. It Is Avarice And Hatred; It Is That Quivering Lip, That Cold, Hating Eye, Which Built Magazines And Powder-houses.