In Books Lies The Soul Fo The

In The True Literary Man There Is Thus Ever, Acknowledged Or Not By The World, A Sacredness: He Is The Light Of The World; The World's Priest; -- Guiding It, Like A Sacred Pillar Of Fire, In Its Dark Pilgrimage Through The Waste Of Time.

To Believe Practically That The Poor And Luckless Are Here Only As A Nusiance To Be Abraded And Abated, And In Some Permissable Manner Made Away With, And Swept Out Of Sight, Is Not An Amiable Faith.

The Condition Of The Most Passionate Enthusiast Is To Be Preferred Over The Individual Who, Because Of The Fear Of Making A Mistake, Won't In The End Affirm Or Deny Anything

All Work Of Man Is As The Swimmer's: A Vast Ocean Threatens To Devour Him; If He Front It Not Bravely, It Will Keep Its Word.

There Is Always Hope In A Man That Actually And Earnestly Works: In Idleness Alone Is There Perpetual Despair.