More! More! is the cry of a mistaken soul.

The child's toys and the old man's reasons are the fruits of two seasons.

I am more famed in Heaven for my works than I could well conceive. In my brain are studies & chambers filled with books & pictures of old, which I wrote and painted in ages of Eternity before my mortal life; and whose works are the delight & study of Archangels. Why, then, should I be anxious about the riches or fame of mortality?

Commerce is so far from being beneficial to arts, or to empire, that it is destructive of both, as all their history shows, for the above reason of individual merit being its great hatred. Empires flourish till they become commercial, and then they are scattered abroad to the four winds.

To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wildflower.

I'm sure this Jesus will not do Either for Englishman or Jew.

As a man is, so he sees.