He Loves To Sit And Hear Me

Great Things Are Done When Men And Mountains Meet.

If The Doors Of Perception Were Cleansed Everything Would Appear To Man As It Is, Infinite. For Man Has Closed Himself Up, Till He Sees All Things Thru Chinks Of His Cavern.

What Is Grand Is Necessarily Obscure To Weak Men. That Which Can Be Made Explicit To The Idiot Is Not Worth My Care.

General Good Is The Plea Of The Scoundrel, Hypocite, Flatterer.

The Hours Of Folly Are Measured By The Clock; But Of Wisdom, No Clock Can Measure.