Science, Nature,-O, I've yearned to open some page.

Come, see the north-wind's masonry, Out of an unseen quarry evermore Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer Curves his white bastions with projected roof Round every windward stake, or tree, or door. Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work So fanciful, so savage, naught cares he For number or proportion.

Books are the best of things, well used; abused, among the worst...They are for nothing but to inspire.

Every revolution was first a thought in one man's mind.

Good bye, proud world! I'm going home; Thou art not my friend, and I'm not thine

A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within, more than the luster of the firmament of bards and sages

The intellect is vagabond, and our system of education fosters restlessness. Our minds travel when our bodies are forced to stay at home. We imitate; and what is imitation but the travelling of the mind?