The World Globes Itself In A Drop

Every Man Contemplates An Angel In His Future Self.

Man Is The End Of Nature; Nothing So Easily Organizes Itself In Every Part Of The Universe As He; No Moss, No Lichen Is So Easilyborn; And He Takes Along With Him And Puts Out From Himself The Whole Apparatus Of Society And Condition Extempore, As An Army Encamps In A Desert, And Where All Was Just Now Blowing Sand, Creates A White City In An Hour, A Government, A Market, A Place For Feasting, For Conversation, And For Love.

Out Of Sleeping A Waking, Out Of Waking A Sleep.

Calmness Is Always Godlike.

The Greatest Meliorator Of The World Is Selfish, Huckstering Trade.