I Feel That There Is

Either The Human Being Must Suffer And Struggle As The Price Of A More Searching Vision, Or His Gaze Must Be Shallow And Without Intellectual Revelation.

All Parts Of Knowledge Have Their Origin In Metaphysics, And Finally, Perhaps, Revolve Into It.

It Was A Sunday Afternoon, Wet And Cheerless; And A Duller Spectacle This Earth Of Ours Has Not To Show Than A Rainy Sunday In London.

Far Better, And More Cheerfully, I Could Dispense With Some Part Of The Downright Necessaries Of Life, Than With Certain Circumstances Of Elegance And Propriety In The Daily Habits Of Using Them.

Dyspepsy Is The Ruin Of Most Things: Empires, Expeditions, And Everything Else.