Words are the motes of thought, and nothing more.
Blest is he whose heart is the home of the great dead and their great thoughts.
Man is a military animal, glories in gunpowder, and loves parade.
It is much less what we do than what we think, which fits us for the future.
Music tells no truths.
It is fine to stand upon some lofty mountain thought, and feel the spirit stretch into a view.