Consciousness Of Error Is, To A Certain

Authors Are Like Cattle Going To A Fair: Those Of The Same Field Can Never Move On Without Butting One Another.

Circumstances Form The Character; But, Like Petrifying Matters, They Harden While They Form.

A Man's Vanity Tells Him What Is Honor, A Man's Conscience What Is Justice.

We May Receive So Much Light As Not To See, And So Much Philosophy As To Be Worse Than Foolish.

I See The Rainbow In The Sky, The Dew Upon The Grass; I See Them, And I Ask Not Why They Glimmer Or They Pass. With Folded Arms I Linger Not To Call Them Back; 'twere Vain: In This, Or In Some Other Spot, I Know They'll Shine Again.