Miracle comes to the miraculous, not to the arithmetician.

Play out the game, act well your part, and if the gods have blundered, we will not.

No rent-roll nor army-list can dignify skulking and dissimulation: and the first point of courtesy must always be truth, as really all the forms of good-breeding point that way.

As men's prayers are a disease of the will, so are their creeds a disease of the intellect.

You cannot institute, without peril of charlatanism.

Tis the privilege of Art Thus to play its cheerful part, Man on earth to acclimate And bend the exile to his fate.

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.