If we cannot comprehend God in his visible works, how then in his inconceivable thoughts, that call the works into being?

Mysteries force a man to think, and so injure his health.

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore.

As a poet and as a mathematician, he would reason well; as a mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned at all.

Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest.

Experience has shown, and a true philosophy will always show, that a vast, perhaps the larger portion of the truth arises from the seemingly irrelevant.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As if some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door--Only this and nothing more.