He Who Destroys A Good Book Kills

Yet Hold It More Humane, More Heav'nly, First, By Winning Words To Conquer Willing Hearts, And Make Persuasion Do The Work Of Fear.

Courtesy Which Oft Is Found In Lowly Sheds, With Smoky Rafters, Than In Tapestry Halls And Courts Of Princes, Where It First Was Named.

I Did But Prompt The Age To Quit Their Clogs By The Known Rules Of Ancient Liberty, When Straight A Barbarous Noise Environs Me Of Owls And Cuckoos, Asses, Apes And Dogs.

For Spirits When They Please Can Either Sex Assume, Or Both; So Soft And Uncompounded Is Their Essence Pure, Not Tied Or Manacled With Joint Or Limb, Nor Founded On The Brittle Strength Of Bones, Like Cumbrous Flesh; But In What Shape They Choose Dilated Or Condensed, Bright Or Obscure, Can Execute Their Airy Purposes, And Works Of Love Or Enmity Fulfil.

That Power Which Erring Men Call Chance.