The spirits of the air live on the smells Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light, roves round The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.

I see through my eyes, not with them.

Embraces are comminglings from the head even to the feet, And not a pompous high priest entering by a secret place.

God forbid that Truth should be confined to Mathematical Demonstration!

Where cheating is, there's mischief there.

This life's dim windows of the soul Distorts the heavens from pole to pole And leads you to believe a lie When you see with, not through, the eye.

The true method of knowledge is experiment.