In for ever knowing, we are for ever blessed; but to know all were the curse of a fiend

Thank Heaven! The crisis /The danger is past, and the lingering illness, is over at last /, and the fever called ''Living'' is conquered at last.

Grammar is the analysis of language.

Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term Art, I should call it 'the reproduction of what the Senses perceive in Nature through the veil of the soul.' The mere imitation, however accurate, of what is in Nature, entitles no man to the sacred name of 'Artist.'

It is with literature as with law or empire - an established name is an estate in tenure, or a throne in possession.

If the propositions of this Discourse are tenable, the "state of progressive collapse" is precisely that state in which alone we are warranted in considering All Things.

I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him.