History: A Distillation Of Rumor.

A Man Ought To Inquire And Find Out What He Really And Truly Has An Appetite For; What Suits His Constitution; And That, Doctors Tell Him, Is The Very Thing He Ought To Have In General. And So With Books.

Men Worship The Shows Of Great Men; The Most Disbelieve That There Is Any Reality Of Great Men To Worship.

The Only Happiness A Brave Person Ever Troubles Themselves In Asking About, Is Happiness Enough To Get Their Work Done.

But Deepest Of All Illusory Appearances, For Hiding Wonder, As For Many Other Ends, Are Your Two Grand Fundamental World-enveloping Appearances, Space And Time. These, As Spun And Woven For Us From Before Birth Itself, To Clothe Our Celestial Me For Dwelling Here, And Yet To Blind It, Lie All-embracing, As The Universal Canvas, Or Warp And Woof, Whereby All Minor Illusions, In This Phantasm Existence, Weave And Paint Themselves. In Vain, While Here On Earth, Shall You Endeavor To Strip Them Off; You Can, At Best, But Rend Them Asunder For Moments, And Look Through.

He Who Talks Much About Virtue In The Abstract, Begins To Be Suspected; It Is Shrewdly Guessed That Where There Is Great Preaching There Will Be Little Almsgiving.