Man Is Made Of Ordinary Things, And

Even Now, Nature Is The Only Flame, On Which The Poetic Spirit Feeds; From It Alone It Draws All Its Power, To It Alone It Speaks Even In The Artificial, In The Man Engaged In Culture.

Truth Is More Than A Dream And A Song.

Opposition Always Inflames The Enthusiast, Never Converts Him.

Arrow-swift The Present Sweepeth, And Motionless Forever Stands The Past.

It Is Difficult To Discriminate The Voice Of Truth From Amid The Clamor Raised By Heated Partisans.