Books, We Are Told, Propose To Instruct

For Tea, Though Ridiculed By Those Who Are Naturally Coarse In Their Nervous Sensibilities, Or Are Become So From Wine-drinking, And Are Not Susceptible Of Influence From So Refined A Stimulant, Will Always Be The Favourite Beverage Of The Intellectual.

No Progressive Knowledge Will Ever Medicine That Dread Misgiving Of A Mysterious And Pathless Power Given To Words Of A Certain Import.

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.

All That Is Literature Seeks To Communicate Power

Cows Are Amongst The Gentlest Of Breathing Creatures; None Show More Passionate Tenderness To Their Young When Deprived Of Them; And, In Short, I Am Not Ashamed To Profess A Deep Love For These Quiet Creatures.