A Dead Body Revenges Not Injuries.

A Dog Starved At His Master's Gate Predicts The Ruin Of The State.

I Must Create A System Or Be Enslaved By Another Mans; I Will Not Reason And Compare: My Business Is To Create.

I Rest Not From My Great Task! | To Open The Eternal Worlds, | To Open The Immortal Eyes Of Man | Inwards Into The Worlds Of Thought; | Into Eternity, Ever Expanding | In The Bosom Of God, | The Human Imagination

The Countless Gold Of A Merry Heart, The Rubies And Pearls Of A Loving Eye, The Indolent Never Can Bring To The Mart, Nor The Secret Hoard Up In His Treasury.

How Sweet I Roamed From Field To Field, And Tasted All The Summer's Pride, Till I The Prince Of Love Beheld, Who In The Sunny Beams Did Glide!