The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.
Reason, or the ratio of all we have already known, is not the same that it shall be when we know more.
The generations of men run on in the tide of time, but leave their destined lineaments permanent for ever and ever.
The crow wished everything was black, the Owl, that everything was white.
I see through my eyes, not with them.
Love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives its ease, and builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.