When The Night Is Darkest, The Stars

Can Anything Be So Elegant As To Have Few Wants, And To Serve Them One's Self?

How Much Finer Things Are In Composition Than Alone.

Why Should Not We Have A Poetry And Philosophy Of Insight And Not Of Tradition, And A Religion By Revelation To Us, And Not The History Of Theirs?

There Is Always Room For A Person Of Force And They Make Room For Many.

The Ragged Cliff Has Thousand Faces In A Thousand Hours.