Write . . . Write . .

The Swan, Like The Soul Of The Poet, By The Dull World Is Ill Understood.

If The Romans Had Been Obliged To Learn Latin, They Would Never Have Found Time To Conquer The World.

Round My Cradle Shimmered The Last Moonbeams Of The Eighteenth Century And The First Morning Rays Of The Nineteenth.

Christ Rode On An Ass, But Now Asses Ride On Christ.

Society Is A Republic. When An Individual Endeavors To Lift Himself Above His Fellows, He Is Dragged Down By The Mass, Either By Means Of Ridicule Or Of Calumny. No One Shall Be More Virtuous Or More Intellectually Gifted Than Others. Whoever, By The Irresistable Force Of Genius, Rises Above The Common Herd Is Certain To Be Ostracized By Society, Which Will Pursue Him With Such Merciless Derision And Detraction That At Last He Will Be Compelled To Retreat Into The Solitude Of His Thoughts.