We Have Chosen Mahomet Not As The

Man Always Worships Something; Always He Sees The Infinite Shadowed Forth In Something Finite; And Indeed Can And Must So See It In Any Finite Thing, Once Tempt Him Well To Fix His Eyes Thereon.

Time Is The Silent, Never-resting Thing ... Rolling, Rushing On, Swift, Silent, Like An All-embracing Oceantide, On Which We And All The Universe Swim.

A False Man Found A Religion? Why, A False Man Cannot Build A Brick House!

True Friends, Like Ivy And The Wall Both Stand Together, And Together Fall.

The Errors Of A Wise Man Are Literally More Instructive Than The Truths Of A Fool. The Wise Man Travels In Lofty, Far-seeing Regions; The Fool In Low-lying, High-fenced Lanes; Retracing The Footsteps Of The Former, To Discover Where He Diviated, Whole Provinces Of The Universe Are Laid Open To Us; In The Path Of The Latter, Granting Even That He Has Not Deviated At All, Little Is Laid Open To Us But Two Wheel-ruts And Two Hedges.