It is unconceivable that the whole Universe was merely created for us who live in this third-rate planet of a third-rate moon.

How many a father have I seen, A sober man, among his boys, Whose youth was full of foolish noise.

But the churchmen fain would kill their church, As the churches have kill'd their Christ.

He that wrongs a friend Wrongs himself more, and ever bears about A silent court of justice in his breast, Himself the judge and jury, and himself The prisoner at the bar ever condemned.

And ah for a man to arise in me, That the man I am may cease to be!

For love reflects the thing beloved.

Mastering the lawless science of our law,- that codeless myriad of precedent, that wilderness of single instances.