How Is The Anxious Soul Of Man

If Any Speak Ill Of Thee, Flee Home To Thy Own Conscience, And Examine Thy Heart: If Thou Be Guilty, It Is A Just Correction; If Not Guilty, It Is A Fair Instruction: Make Use Of Both; So Shalt Thou Distil Honey Out Of Gall, And Out Of An Open Enemy Create A Secret Friend.

The World's A Printing-house, Our Words, Our Thoughts, Our Deeds, Are Characters Of Several Sizes. Each Soul Is A Compos'tor, Of Whose Faults The Levites Are Correctors; Heaven Revises. Death Is The Common Press, From Whence Being Driven, We're Gather'd, Sheet By Sheet, And Bound For Heaven.

Immortal Life Is Something To Be Earned, By Slow Self-conquest, Comradeship With Pain, And Patient Seeking After Higher Truths.

The Way To Subject All Things To Thyself Is To Subject Thyself To Reason; Thou Shalt Govern Many, If Reason Govern Thee. Wouldst Thou Be Crowned The Monarch Of A Little World? Command Thyself.

Humility Enforces Where Neither Virtue Nor Strength Can Prevail, Nor Reason.