To the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.

I wander thro' each charter'd street, Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear. How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls; And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls. But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new born Infant's tear, And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing but foresight is better, especially when it comes to saving life, or some pain!

Do what you will this life's a fiction, And is made up of contradiction.

How do you know but ev’ry Bird that cuts the airy way, Is an immense world of delight, clos’d by your senses five?

Energy is the only life, and is from the body; and reason is the bound or outward circumference of energy. Energy is eternal delight.