The Mind Is Not, I Know, A

It Seems That It Is Madder Never To Abandon One's Self Than Often To Be Infatuated; Better To Be Wounded, A Captive And A Slave, Than Always To Walk In Armor.

Essays, Entitled Critical, Are Epistles Addressed To The Public, Through Which The Mind Of The Recluse Relieves Itself Of Its Impressions.

Only The Dreamer Shall Understand Realities, Though In Truth His Dreaming Must Be Not Out Of Proportion To His Waking.

What I Mean By The Muse Is That Unimpeded Clearness Of The Intuitive Powers, Which A Perfectly Truthful Adherence To Every Admonition Of The Higher Instincts Would Bring To A Finely Organized Human Being. It May Appear As Prophesy Or As Poesy...should These Faculties Have Free Play, I Believe They Will Open Up New, Deeper And Purer Sources Of Joyous Inspiration Than Have As Yet Refreshed The Earth.

Beware Of Over-great Pleasure In Being Popular Or Even Beloved.