Language Is Only The Instrument Of Science,

Sleep Undisturbed Within This Peaceful Shrine, Till Angels Wake Thee With A Note Like Thine.

A Man Has No More Right To Say An Uncivil Thing Than To Act One; No More Right To Say A Rude Thing To Another Than To Knock Him Down.

Instead Of Rating The Man By His Performances, We Rate Too Frequently The Performances By The Man.

Whatever Withdraws Us From The Power Of Our Senses; Whatever Makes The Past, The Distant, Or The Future, Predominate Over The Present, Advances Us In The Dignity Of Thinking Beings. Far From Me, And Far From My Friends Be Such Frigid Philosophy As May Conduct Us Indifferent And Unmoved Over Any Ground Which Has Been Dignified By Wisdom, Bravery, Or Virtue. That Man Is Little To Be Envied Whose Patriotism Would Not Gain Force Upon The Plain Of Marathon, Or Whose Piety Would Not Grow Warmer Among The Ruins Of Ionia.

Wheresoe'er I Turn My View, All Is Strange, Yet Nothing New: Endless Labor All Along, Endless Labor To Be Wrong: Phrase That Time Has Flung Away; Uncouth Words In Disarray, Trick'd In Antique Ruff And Bonnet, Ode, And Elegy, And Sonnet.