Reason Is A Bee, And Exists Only

What Can You Possibly Add To A Mind That's Full, Especially One That's Full Of Itself.

We Do Not Do Well Except When We Know Where The Best Is And When We Are Assured That We Have Touched It And Hold Its Power Within Us.

Nothing Which Does Not Transport Is Poetry. The Lyre Is A Winged Instrument.

Who Ever Has No Fixed Opinions Has No Constant Feelings.

The Art Of Saying Well What One Thinks Is Different From The Faculty Of Thinking. The Latter May Be Very Deep And Lofty And Far- Reaching, While The Former Is Altogether Wanting.