The Fire Which Enlightens Is The Same

I Have Never Felt Any Inward Assurance Of Genius, Or Any Presentiment Of Glory Or Of Happiness. I Have Never Seen Myself In Imagination Great Or Famous, Or Even A Husband, A Father, An Influential Citizen. This Indifference To The Future, This Absolute Self-distrust, Are, No Doubt, To Be Taken As Signs. What Dreams I Have Are All Vague And Indefinite; I Ought Not To Live, For I Am Now Scarcely Capable Of Living.

What We Do Not Understand We Have No Right To Judge

Great Men Are The Real Men, In Them Nature Has Succeeded.

Mother Of Marvels, Mysterious And Tender Nature, Why Do We Not Live More In Thee.

What We Do Not Understand We Have No Right To Judge