My whinstone house my castle is, I have my own four walls.
It is not a lucky word, this name impossible; no good comes of those who have it so often in their mouths.
It is part of my creed that the only poetry is history, could we tell it right.
Conviction never so excellent, is worthless until it coverts itself into conduct.
It is a mathematical fact that the casting of this pebble from my hand alters the centre of gravity of the universe.
To reform a world, to reform a nation, no wise man will undertake; and all but foolish men know, that the only solid, though a far slower reformation, is what each begins and perfects on himself.