And The Devil Did Grin, For His

Greatness And Goodness Are Not Means, But Ends.

Language Is The Armory Of The Human Mind, And At Once Contains The Trophies Of Its Past And The Weapons Of Its Future Conquests.

The Form Of Truth Will Bear Exposure, As Well As That Of Beauty Herself.

Summer Has Set In With Its Usual Severity.

The Language Of The Dream/night Is Contrary To That Of Waking/day. It Is A Language Of Images And Sensations, The Various Dialects Of Which Are Far Less Different From Each Other, Than The Various Day-languages Of Nations.