The Providence That Watches Over

We Live Merely On The Crust Or Rind Of Things.

The Endurance Of The Inequalities Of Life By The Poor Is The Marvel Of Human Society.

A Dreamer He Was, And Ever Would Be. Yet Dreaming Need Not Injure Us, If It Do But Take Its Turn With Waking; And Even Dreams Themselves May Be Turned To Beauty, By Favoured Men To Whom Nature Has Given The Powers Of Casting Them Into Form.

I Think There Is A Spiritual Scent In Us Which Feels Mischief Coming, As They Say Birds Scent Storms.

The Essence Of Greatness Is Neglect Of The Self.