It Is Pleasant To Be Admitted Into

That Great Dust-heap Called 'history'.

A Poet's Soul Must Contain The Perfect Shape Of All Things Good, Wise And Just. His Body Must Be Spotless And Without Blemish, His Life Pure, His Thoughts High, His Studies Intense.

[milton] Calls The University "a Stony-hearted Step-mother."

Given Pounds And Five Years, And An Ordinary Man Can In The Ordinary Course, Without Any Undue Haste Or Putting Any Pressure Upon His Taste, Surround Himself With Books, All In His Own Language, And Thence Forward Have At Least One Place In The World.

Few Men Can Afford To Be Angry.