We Pass For What We

The Finest Poems Of The World Have Been Expedients To Get Bread.

It Does Not Need That A Poem Should Be Long. Every Word Was Once A Poem.

And Truly It Demands Something God Like In Him Who Has Cast Off The Common Motives Of Humanity, And Has Ventured To Trust Himself For A Taskmaster. High Be His Heart, Faithful His Will, Clear His Sight, That He May In Good Earnest Be Doctrine, Society, Law, To Himself, That A Simple Purpose May Be To Him As Strong As Iron Necessity Is To Others!

What Is Well Done, I Feel As If I Did; What Is Ill-done, I Reck Not Of.

Nothing In Nature Is Exhausted In Its First Use...in God, Every End Is Converted Into A New Means.