Every Man Has A Vocation. The Talent

He Thought It Happier To Be Dead, To Die For Beauty, Than Live For Bread

What The Tender And Poetic Youth Dreams To-day, And Conjures Up With Inarticulate Speech, Is To-morrow The Vociferated Result Of Public Opinion, And The Day After Is The Character Of Nations.

Nature Never Sends A Great Man Into The Planet, Without Confiding The Secret To Another Soul.

Each Man Reserves To Himself Alone The Right Of Being Tedious.

Tis The Good Reader That Makes The Good Book; In Every Book He Finds Passages Which Seem Confidences Or Asides Hidden From All Else And Unmistakenly Meant For His Ear; The Profit Of Books Is According To The Sensibility Of The Reader; The Profoundest Thought Or Passion Sleeps As In A Mine, Until It Is Discovered By An Equal Mind And Heart.