What is the price of experience? Do men buy it for a song? Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is bought with the price of all the man hath, his house, his wife, his children.

When the doors of perception are cleansed, men will see things as they truly are, infinite.

Pity would be no more, If we did not make somebody poor. Mercy no more could be, If all were happy as we.

When the stars threw down their spears, and watered heaven with their tears, did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Nothing is real beyond imaginative patterns men make of reality.

Every man who is not an artist is a traitor to his own nature.

The ruins of time build mansions in eternity.