Excessive Sorrow Laughs. Excessive Joy

Why Cannot The Ear Be Closed To Its Own Destruction? Or The Glistening Eye To The Poison Of A Smile?

He Whose Face Gives No Light, Shall Never Become A Star.

Innate Ideas Are In Every Man, Born With Him; They Are Truly Himself. The Man Who Says That We Have No Innate Ideas Must Be A Fool And Knave, Having No Conscience Or Innate Science.

How Do You Know But Ev’ry Bird That Cuts The Airy Way, Is An Immense World Of Delight, Clos’d By Your Senses Five?

Wisdom Is Sold In A Desolate Marketplace Where None Can Come To Buy.