The walking of Man is falling forwards.

It is better to suffer injustice than to do it.

A new degree of intellectual power seems cheap at any price.

You have just dined, and however scrupulously the slaughterhouse is concealed in the graceful distance of miles, there is complicity.

Yourself a newborn bard of the Holy Ghost, cast behind you all conformity, and acquaint men at first hand with Deity.

There the great Planter plants Of fruitful worlds the grain, And with a million spells enchants The souls that walk in pain.

Line in Nature is not found; Unit and Universe are round.