Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds

Tell me, ye wingèd winds That round my pathway roar, Know ye not some spot Where mortals weep no more?

An arrow may fly through the air and leave no trace; but an ill thought leaves a trail like a serpent.

Men of thought and men of action, clear the Way!

There's a fount about to stream, There's a light about to beam, There's a warmth about to glow, There's a flower about to blow; There's a midnight blackness changing Into gray; Men of thought and men of action, Clear the way.

There is no such thing as death. In nature nothing dies. From each sad remnant of decay, some forms of life arise so shall his life be taken away before he knoweth that he hath it.

There is scarcely an occurrence in nature which, happening at a certain time, is not looked upon by some persons as a prognosticator either of good or evil. The latter are in the greatest number, so much more ingenious are we in tormenting ourselves than in discovering reasons for enjoyment in the things that surround us.