O Earth, O Earth, Return! Arise From

Think Not Thou Canst Sigh A Sigh And Thy Maker Is Not By; Think Not Thou Canst Weep A Tear And Thy Maker Is Not Near.

The Countless Gold Of A Merry Heart, The Rubies And Pearls Of A Loving Eye, The Indolent Never Can Bring To The Mart, Nor The Secret Hoard Up In His Treasury.

Joys Impregnate. Sorrows Bring Forth.

Every Man Who Is Not An Artist Is A Traitor To His Own Nature.

Innate Ideas Are In Every Man, Born With Him; They Are Truly Himself. The Man Who Says That We Have No Innate Ideas Must Be A Fool And Knave, Having No Conscience Or Innate Science.