For only by unlearning Wisdom comes.

And blessed are the horny hands of toil.

Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light.

A word once vulgarized can never be rehabilitated.

It may be glorious to write Thoughts that shall glad the two or three High souls, like those far stars that come in sight Once in a century.

This imputation of inconsistency is one to which every sound politician and every honest thinker must sooner or later subject himself. The foolish and the dead alone never change their opinion.

Two meanings have our lightest fantasies,- One of the flesh, and of the spirit one.