It Is The Province Of Knowledge To

A Moment's Insight Is Sometimes Worth A Life's Experience.

Every Event That A Man Would Master Must Be Mounted On The Run, And No Man Ever Caught The Reins Of A Thought Except As It Galloped Past Him.

A Man May Fulfill The Object Of His Existence By Asking A Question He Cannot Answer, And Attempting A Task He Cannot Achieve.

Our Brains Are Seventy-year Clocks. The Angel Of Life Winds Them Up Once For All, Then Closes The Case, And Gives The Key Into The Hand Of The Angel Of The Resurrection.

Me Wretched! Let Me Curr To Quercine Shades! Effund Your Albid Hausts, Lactiferous Maids! O, Might I Vole To Some Umbrageous Clump,-- Depart,--be Off,--excede,--evade,--erump!