Man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.
Everything to be imagined is an image of truth.
The lamb misused breeds public strife And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
[L]et light Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring The honey'd dew that cometh on waking day. O radiant morning.
The Man who pretends to be a modest enquirer into the truth of a self-evident thing is a Knave.
If you, who are organised by Divine Providence for spiritual communion, refuse, and bury your talent in the earth, even though you should want natural bread, sorrow and desperation pursue you through life, and after death shame and confusion of face to eternity.