Tis Good-will Makes Intelligence.

Society Is An Illusion To The Young Citizen. It Lies Before Him In Rigid Repose, With Certain Names, Men, And Institutions, Rootedlike Oak-trees To The Centre, Round Which All Arrange Themselves The Best They Can. But The Old Statesman Knows That Society Is Fluid; There Are No Such Roots And Centres; But Any Particle May Suddenly Become The Centre Of The Movement, And Compel The System To Gyrate Round It, As Every Man Of Strong Will, Like Pisistratus, Or Cromwell, Does For A Time, And Every Man Of Truth, Like Plato, Or Paul, Does Forever.

I Shun Father And Mother And Wife And Brother, When My Genius Calls Me.

All Infractions Of Love And Equity In Our Social Relations Are ... Punished By Fear.

The Poisons Are Our Principal Medicines, Which Kill The Disease And Save The Life.

The Unbelief Of The Age Is Attested By The Loud Condemnation Of Trifles.