Nothing is real beyond imaginative patterns men make of reality.

Mans desires are limited by his perceptions; none can desire what he has not perceived.

God appears, and God is Light, to those poor souls who dwell in Night; but does a Human Form display to those who dwell in realms of Day.

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

When nations grow old the Arts grow cold And commerce settles on every tree

And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God On England's pleasant pastures seen?

Down the winding cavern we groped our tedious way, till a void boundless as the nether sky appeared beneath us, and we held by the roots of trees and hung over this immensity; but I said: if you please we will commit ourselves to this void and see whether providence is here also.