False happiness is like false money; it passes for a time as well as the true, and serves some ordinary occasions; but when it is brought to the touch, we find the lightness and alloy, and feel the loss.

chaos of thought and passion, all confus'd.

A man of business may talk of philosophy; a man who has none may practice it.

Who builds a church to God and not to fame, Will never mark the marble with his name.

On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore.

When to the Permanent is sacrificed the Mutable, the prize is thine: the drop returneth whence it came. The Open Path leads to the changeless change - Non-Being, the glorious state of Absoluteness, the Bliss past human thought.

Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.