Words are like Leaves; and where they most abound, Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found.

[T]hro’ this Air, this Ocean, and this Earth, All Nature quick, and bursting into birth. Above, how high progressive life may go? Around how wide? how deep extend below? Vast Chain of Being! which from God began, Ethereal Essence, Spirit, Substance, Man, Beast, Bird, Fish, Insect! what no Eye can see, No Glass can reach! from Infinite to Thee! From Thee to Nothing.... From Nature’s Chain whatever Link you strike, Tenth, or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike.... All are but parts of one stupendous Whole: Whose Body Nature is, and God the Soul.

To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves.

Here am I, dying of a hundred good symptoms.

And seem to walk on wings, and tread in air.

And make each day a critic on the last.

What's fame? a fancy'd life in other's breath. A thing beyond us, even before our death.