Expression Is The Dress Of Thought.

Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle State, A Being Darkly Wise And Rudely Great... He Hangs Between; In Doubt To Act Or Rest; In Doubt To Deem Himself A God, Or Beast; In Doubt His Mind Or Body To Prefer; Born To Die, And Reasoning But To Err.

Our Proper Bliss Depends On What We Blame.

Education Forms The Common Mind. Just As The Twig Is Bent, The Tree's Inclined.

Blest Paper-credit! Last And Best Supply! That Lends Corruption Lighter Wings To Fly!

Condition, Circumstance, Is Not The Thing; Bliss Is The Same In Subject Or In King.