A Man's Perfection Is His

In The True Literary Man There Is Thus Ever, Acknowledged Or Not By The World, A Sacredness: He Is The Light Of The World; The World's Priest; -- Guiding It, Like A Sacred Pillar Of Fire, In Its Dark Pilgrimage Through The Waste Of Time.

All That Mankind Has Done, Thought Or Been: It Is Lying As In Magic Preservation In The Pages Of Books.

The True University Of These Days Is A Collection Of Books.

A Man Protesting Against Error Is On The Way Towards Uniting Himself With All Men That Believe In Truth.

Why Did Not Somebody Teach Me The Constellations, And Make Me At Home In The Starry Heavens, Which Are Always Overhead, And Which I Don't Half Know To This Day?