Where Do We Find Ourselves? In A

There Is A Relation Between The Hours Of Our Life And The Centuries Of Time. As The Air I Breathe Is Drawn From The Great Repositories Of Nature, As The Light On My Book Is Yielded By A Star A Hundred Millions Of Miles Distant, As The Poise Of My Body Depends On The Equilibrium Of Centrifugal And Centripetal Forces, So The Hours Should Be Instructed By The Ages And The Ages Explained By The Hours.

Expediency Of Literature, Reason Of Literature, Lawfulness Of Writing Down A Thought, Is Questioned; Much Is To Say On Both Sides,and, While The Fight Waxes Hot, Thou, Dearest Scholar, Stick To Thy Foolish Task, Add A Line Every Hour, And Between Whiles Add A Line.

Keep The Town For Occasions, But The Habits Should Be Formed In Retirement.

There Are Many Things Of Which A Wise Man Might Wish To Be Ignorant

I Am Not Engaged To Christianity By Decent Forms, Or Saving Ordinances; It Is Not Usage, It Is Not What I Do Not Understand, That Binds Me To It -- Let These Be The Sandy Foundations Of Falsehoods. What I Revere And Obey In It Is Its Reality, Its Boundless Charity, Its Deep Interior Life, The Rest It Gives To My Mind, The Echo It Returns To My Thoughts, The Perfect Accord It Makes With My Reason Through All Its Representation Of God And His Providence; And The Persuasion And Courage That Come Out Thence To Lead Me Upward And Onward.