Man, in the ideal, is so noble and so sparkling, such a grand and glowing creature, that over any ignominious blemish in him all his fellows should run to throw their costliest robes.
Herman MelvilleThe path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails whereon my soul is grooved to run
Herman MelvilleBut I shall follow the endless, winding way, — the flowing river in the cave of man; careless whither I be led, reckless where I land.
Herman Melville