Ill-health, Of Body Or Of

Ever, As Before, Does Madness Remain A Mysterious-terrific, Altogether Infernal Boiling-up Of The Nether Chaotic Deep, Through This Fair-painted Vision Of Creation, Which Swims Thereon, Which We Name The Real.

Blessed Is He Who Has Found His Work; Let Him Ask No Other Blessedness.

What Is Philosophy But A Continual Battle Against Custom?

Today Is Not Yesterday: We Ourselves Change; How Can Our Works And Thoughts, If They Are Always To Be The Fittest, Continue Always The Same? Change, Indeed Is Painful; Yet Ever Needful; And If Memory Have Its Force And Worth, So Also Has Hope.

Let Him Who Would Move And Convince Others, Be First Moved And Convinced Himself.