To Make An End Of All Things

There Are No Grotesques In Nature; Not Anything Framed To Fill Up Empty Cantons, And Unnecessary Spaces.

I Envy No Man That Knows More Than Myself, But Pity Them That Know Less.

Art Is The Perfection Of Nature, ... Nature Is The Art Of God.

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

To Extend Our Memories By Monuments, Whose Death We Daily Pray For, And Whose Duration We Cannot Hope, Without Injury To Our Expectations In The Advent Of The Last Day, Were A Contradiction To Our Belief.