Stupidity Is Without Anxiety.

There Is But One Poetry,--true Poetry.

What Reason Would Grope For In Vain, Spontaneous Impulse Ofttimes Achieves At A Stroke, With Light And Pleasureful Guidance.

And Step By Step, Along The Path Of Life, There's Nothing True But Heaven.

Conscience Is The Virtue Of The Observers Not The Agents Of Action

Investigate What Is, And Not What Pleases.