Every Man Supposes Himself Not To Be

The Intellect,-that Is Miraculous! Who Has It, Has The Talisman: His Skin And Bones, Though They Were Of The Color Of Night, Are Transparent, And The Everlasting Stars Shine Through, With Attractive Beams.

We See The World Piece By Piece, As The Sun, The Moon, The Animal, The Tree; But The Whole, Of Which These Are Shining Parts, Is The Soul.

Men Cease To Interest Us When We Find Their Limitations

The Hero Sees That The Event Is Ancillary: It Must Follow Him.

Be Yourself; No Base Imitator Of Another, But Your Best Self.