Rightly It Is Said Of Utter, Utter

Many A Man Has Risen To Eminence Under The Powerful Reaction Of His Mind In Fierce Counter-agency To The Scorn Of The Unworthy, Daily Evoked By His Personal Defects, Who With A Handsome Person Would Have Sunk Into The Luxury Of A Careless Life Under The Tranquillizing Smiles Of Continual Admiration.

The Science Of Style As An Organ Of Thought, Of Style In Relation To The Ideas And Feelings, Might Be Called The Organology Of Style.

All Is Finite In The Present; And Even That Finite Is Infinite In It Velocity Of Flight Towards Death. But In God There Is Nothing Finite...upon A Night Of Earthquake He Builds A Thousand Years Of Pleasant Habitations For Man. Upon The Sorrow Of An Infant He Raises Oftentimes From Human Intellects Glorious Vintages That Could Not Else Have Been.

A Great Scholar, In The Highest Sense Of The Term, Is Not One Who Depends Simply On An Infinite Memory, But Also On An Infinite And Electrical Power Of Combination; Bringing Together From The Four Winds, Like The Angel Of The Resurrection, What Else Were Dust From Dead Men's Bones, Into The Unity Of Breathing Life.

Kings Should Disdain To Die, And Only Disappear.