It Is Very Natural For A Young

Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle State, A Being Darkly Wise And Rudely Great... He Hangs Between; In Doubt To Act Or Rest; In Doubt To Deem Himself A God, Or Beast; In Doubt His Mind Or Body To Prefer; Born To Die, And Reasoning But To Err.

Who Taught That Heaven-directed Spire To Rise?

A Disputant No More Cares For The Truth Than The Sportsman For The Hare.

Only Music Has The Ability To Take You To The Edge Of Reality And Allow You To Peek In For A Moment.

To Endeavor To Work Upon The Vulgar With Fine Sense Is Like Attempting To Hew Blocks With A Razor.