The Finite Is Annihilated In The Presence

The Last Act Is Bloody, However Pleasant All The Rest Of The Play Is: A Little Earth Is Thrown At Last Upon Our Head, And That Is The End Forever.

The Imagination Enlarges Little Objects So As To Fill Our Souls With A Fantastic Estimate; And, With Rash Insolence, It Belittles The Great To Its Own Measure, As When Talking Of God.

The End Point Of Rationality Is To Demonstrate The Limits Of Rationality.

Le Moi Est Ha|«s Sable. The Self Is Hateful.

Custom Determines What Is Agreeable.