The Genius Of Shakespeare Was An Innate

Where Soil Is, Men Grow, Whether To Weeds Or Flowers.

I Never Can Feel Certain Of Any Truth, But From A Clear Perception Of Its Beauty.

There Is An Electric Fire In Human Nature Tending To Purify - So That Among These Human Creatures There Is Continually Some Birth Of New Heroism. The Pity Is That We Must Wonder At It, As We Should At Finding A Pearl In Rubbish.

Philosophy Will Clip An Angel's Wings.

A Man's Life Of Any Worth Is A Continual Allegory, And Very Few Eyes Can See The Mystery Of His Life, A Life Like The Scriptures, Figurative.