I have grown to believe that there is no dangerous idea, which does not become less dangerous when written out in sincere and careful English.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses The dim gray sands with light, Far off by furthest Rosses We foot it all the night, Weaving olden dances, Mingling hands and mingling glances Till the moon has taken flight; To and fro we leap And chase the frothy bubbles, While the world is full of troubles And is anxious in its sleep. . . .

One often hears of a horse that shivers with terror, or of a dog that howls at something a mans eyes cannot see, and men who live primitive lives where instinct does the work of reason are fully conscious,of many things we cannot perceive at all. As life becomes more orderly, more deliberate, the supernatural world sinks farther away.

Why should we honour those that die upon the field of battle? A man may show as reckless a courage in entering into the abyss of himself.

It takes more courage to dig deep in the dark corners of your own soul and the back alleys of your society than it does for a soldier to fight on the battlefield.

The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.

Test every work of intellect or faith and everything that your own hands have wrought.