They Do Most By Books, Who Could

Had Not Almost Every Man Suffered By The Press, Or Were Not The Tyranny Thereof Become Universal, I Had Not Wanted Reason For Complaint.

Be Thou What Thou Singly Art And Personate Only Thyself. Swim Smoothly In The Stream Of Thy Nature And Live But One Man.

But Man Is A Noble Animal, Splendid In Ashes, And Pompous In The Grave, Solemnizing Nativities And Deaths With Equal Lustre, Nor Omitting Ceremonies Of Bravery, In The Infamy Of His Nature. Life Is A Pure Flame, And We Live By An Invisible Sun Within Us.

The Mortalist Enemy Unto Knowledge, And That Which Hath Done The Greatest Execution Unto Truth, Has Been A Preemptory Adhesion Unto Authority.

Think Not Thy Time Short In This World, Since The World Itself Is Not Long. The Created World Is But A Small Parenthesis In Eternity, And A Short Interposition, For A Time, Between Such A State Of Duration As Was Before It And May Be After It.