Slow Are The Steps Of Freedom, But

The Path Of Nature Is, Indeed, A Narrow One, And It Is Only The Immortals That Seek It, And, When They Find It, Do Not Find Themselves Cramped Therein.

He Gives Us The Very Quintessence Of Perception,-the Clearly Crystalized Precipitation Of All That Is Most Precious In The Ferment Of Impression After The Impertinent And Obtrusive Particulars Have Evaporated From The Memory.

Whatever You May Be Sure Of, Be Sure Of This, That You Are Dreadfully Like Other People.

The One Thing Finished In This Hasty World.

The True Ideal Is Not Opposed To The Real But Lies In It; And Blessed Are The Eyes That Find It.