The Man Is Only Half Himself, The

I Take This Evanescence And Lubricity Of All Objects, Which Lets Them Slip Through Our Fingers Then When We Clutch Hardest, To Be The Most Unhandsome Part Of Our Condition.

The Sanity Of Society Is A Balance Of A Thousand Insanity's.

The Secret Of Drunkenness Is, That It Insulates Us In Thought, Whilst It Unites Us In Feeling.

The Soul Is Not Born; It Does Not Die; It Was Not Produced From Anyone… Unborn, Eternal, It Is Not Slain, Though The Body Is Slain.

Man Was Born To Be Rich, Or To Inevitably Grow Rich, By The Use Of His Faculties: By The Union Of Thought With Nature.