The soul of sweet delight, can never be defiled.

I am going to that country which I have all my life wished to see.

Imitation is criticism.

I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; So I turn'd to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore. And I saw it was filled with graves, And tomb-stones where flowers should be: And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds, And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

And I watered it in fears, Night and morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles.

The Man who pretends to be a modest enquirer into the truth of a self-evident thing is a Knave.

The true method of knowledge is experiment.