Heaven Trims Our Lamps While We Sleep.

Our Favorites Are Few; Since Only What Rises From The Heart Reaches It, Being Caught And Carried On The Tongues Of Men Wheresoever Love And Letters Journey.

Hold Fast, Therefore, O Circular Philosopher, To Thy Centre, And Drive The Globe Along Its Orbit By The Momentum Of Thy Thought.

The Best Teachers Don't Allow Their Own Personal Views To Influence Their Teaching.

An Author Who Sets His Reader On Sounding The Depths Of His Own Thoughts Serves Him Best.

Memory Marks The Horizon Of Our Consciousness, Imagination Its Zenith.