The end of Man is an Action, and not a Thought, though it were the noblest?
The mystery of a person, indeed, is ever divine to him that has a sense for the godlike.
It is part of my creed that the only poetry is history, could we tell it right.
In the true Literary Man there is thus ever, acknowledged or not by the world, a sacredness: he is the light of the world; the world's Priest; -- guiding it, like a sacred Pillar of Fire, in its dark pilgrimage through the waste of Time.
Humor has justly been regarded as the finest perfection of poetic genius.
The vulgarity of inanimate things requires time to get accustomed to; but living, breathing, bustling, plotting, planning, human vulgarity is a species of moral ipecacuanha, enough to destroy any comfort.