O Luxury! Thou Curst By Heaven's Decree!

The World Is Like A Vast Sea: Mankind Like A Vessel Sailing On Its Tempestuous Bosom. ... [t]he Sciences Serve Us For Oars.

There Is Yet A Silent Agony In Which The Mind Appears To Disdain All External Help, And Broods Over Its Distresses With Gloomy Reserve. This Is The Most Dangerous State Of Mind; Accidents Or Friendships May Lessen The Louder Kinds Of Grief, But All Remedies For This Must Be Had From Within, And There Despair Too Often Finds The Most Deadly Enemy.

Amid Thy Desert-walks The Lapwing Flies, And Tires Their Echoes With Unvaried Cries.

Processions, Cavalcades, And All That Fund Of Gay Frippery, Furnished Out By Tailors, Barbers, And Tire-women, Mechanically Influence The Mind Into Veneration; An Emperor In His Nightcap Would Not Meet With Half The Respect Of An Emperor With A Crown.

A Modest Woman, Dressed Out In All Her Finery, Is The Most Tremendous Object Of The Whole Creation.