I Might As Well Doubt Of My

But, Say You, Surely There Is Nothing Easier Than For Me To Imagine Trees, For Instance, In A Park [. . .] And Nobody By To Perceive Them. [...] The Objects Of Sense Exist Only When They Are Perceived; The Trees Therefore Are In The Garden [. . .] No Longer Than While There Is Somebody By To Perceive Them.

There Being In The Make Of An English Mind A Certain Gloom And Eagerness, Which Carries To The Sad Extreme; Religion To Fanaticism; Free-thinking To Atheism; Liberty To Rebellion.

A Ray Of Imagination Or Of Wisdom May Enlighten The Universe, And Glow Into Remotest Centuries.

All Men Have Opinions, But Few Think.

This Perceiving, Active Being Is What I Call Mind, Spirit, Soul, Or Myself. By Which Words I Do Not Denote Any One Of My Ideas, But A Thing Entirely Distinct From Them, Wherein They Exist, Or, Which Is The Same Thing, Whereby They Are Perceived; For The Existence Of An Idea Consists In Being Perceived.