Piety, Like Nobility, Has Its Aristocracy.

Distance... Is Like Futurity. A Dim Vastness Is Spread Before Our Souls; The Perceptions Of Our Mind Are As Obscure As Those Of Our Vision... But Alas! When We Have Attained Our Object, When The Distant 'there' Becomes The Present 'here,' All Is Changed; We Are As Poor And Circumscribed As Ever, And Our Souls Still Languish For Unattainable Happiness.

That We Understand Something Perfectly, That We Accomplish Something Better Than Anyone Else Around Us, That Is What Matters.

Nature! We Are Surrounded By Her And Locked In Her Clasp: Powerless To Leave Her, And Powerless To Come Closer To Her. Unasked And Unwarned She Takes Us Up Into The Whirl Of Her Dance, And Hurries On With Us Till We Are Weary And Fall From Her Arms.

There Is Nothing Outside Of Us That Is Not At The Same Time In Us, And As The External World Has Its Colors The Eye, Too, Has Colors.

Who Enslaves Another's Manhood With Weak Human Power Alone, Lays A Heavier Yoke Of Bondage Thoughtlessly Upon His Own.