Think Of It. To Go Down To

Seat Thyself Sultanically Among The Moons Of Saturn, And Take High Abstracted Man Alone; And He Seems A Wonder, A Grandeur, And A Woe. But From That Same Point, Take Mankind In Mass, And For The Most Part, They Seem A Mob Of Unnecessary Duplicates, Both Contemporary And Hereditary.

The Eyes Are The Gateway To The Soul.

True Work Is The Necessity Of Poor Humanity's Earthly Condition. The Dignity Is In Leisure. Besides, 99 Hundredths Of All The Work Done In The World Is Either Foolish And Unnecessary, Or Harmful And Wicked.

I Cherish The Greatest Respect Towards Everybody's Religious Obligations, No Matter How Comical.

For All His Tattooings He Was On The Whole A Clean, Comely Looking Cannibal.