There Is No Mistake So Great As

There Is A Place Where Contrarieties Are Equally True.

What Seems To Be, Is, To Those To Whom It Seems To Be, And Is Productive Of The Most Dreadful Consequences To Those To Whom It Seems To Be, Even Of Torments, Despair, Eternal Death.

I Have No Name: I Am But Two Days Old. What Shall I Call Thee? I Happy Am, Joy Is My Name. Sweet Joy Befall Thee!

The Imagination Is Not A State: It Is The Human Existence Itself.

He Who Would Do Good To Another Must Do It In Minute Particulars.