I Am Become A Transparent Eyeball.

As Every Man Is Hunted By His Own Daemon, Vexed By His Own Disease, This Checks All His Activity.

Let Us Interrogate The Great Apparition, That Shines So Peacefully Around Us.

The Divine Gift Is Ever The Instant Life, Which Receives And Uses And Creates, And Can Well Bury The Old In The Omnipotency With Which Nature Decomposes All Her Harvest For Recomposition.

He Only Is Rich Who Owns The Day.

He Needs No Library, For He Has Not Done Thinking; No Church, For He Is Himself A Prophet; No Statute Book, For He Hath The Lawgiver; No Money, For He Is Value Itself; No Road, For He Is At Home Where He Is.