Words are finite expressions of the infinite mind.

Yet time and space are but inverse measures of the force of the soul. The spirit sports with time.

We owe to genius always the same debt, of lifting the curtain from the common, and showing us that divinities are sitting disguised in the seeming gang of gypsies and peddlars.

A man should give us a sense of mass.

The compensations of calamity are made apparent to the understanding also, after long intervals of time.

Let us advance on Chaos and the Dark

How casually and unobservedly we make all our most valued acquaintances.