Sad Patience, Too Near Neighbour To Despair.

We, Peopling The Void Air, Make Gods To Whom To Impute The Ills We Ought To Bear; With God And Fate To Rail At, Suffering Easily.

One Must, I Think, Be Struck More And More The Longer One Lives, To Find How Much In Our Present Society A Man's Life Of Each Day Depends For Its Solidity And Value Upon Whether He Reads During That Day, And Far More Still On What He Reads During It.

The Kings Of Modern Thought Are Dumb.

Not A Having And A Resting, But A Growing And A Becoming, Is The Character Of Perfection As Culture Conceives It.

All Knowledge Is Interesting To A Wise Man, And The Knowledge Of Nature Is Interesting To All Men.