I Have Enjoyed Earthly Happiness, I Have

The Brave Person Thinks Of Himself Last Of All.

Time Consecrates; And What Is Gray With Age Becomes Religion.

Against Stupidity, God Himself Fights In Vain.

The Painter Is, As To The Execution Of His Work, A Mechanic; But As To His Conception And Spirit And Design He Is Hardly Below Even The Poet.

Each State Of The Human Mind Has Some Parable In The Physical Creation By Which It Is Shadowed Forth; Nor Is It Only Artists And Poets, But Even The Most Abstract Thinkers That Have Drawn From This Source. Lively Activity We Name Fire; Time Is A Stream That Rolls On, Sweeping All Before It; Eternity Is A Circle; A Mystery Is Hid In Midnight Gloom, And Truth Dwells In The Sun. Nay, I Begin To Believe That Even The Future Destiny Of The Human Race Is Prefigured In The Dark Oracular Utterances Of Bodily Creation.