I Covet Truth; Beauty Is Unripe Childhood's

Genius Is The Naturalist Or Geographer Of The Supersensible Regions, And Draws Their Map; And, By Acquainting Us With New Fields Of Activity, Cools Our Affection For The Old. These Are At Once Accepted As The Reality, Of Which The World We Have Conversed With Is The Show.

For Everything You Gain, You Lose Something.

Solitude Is Naught And Society Is Naught. Alternate Them And The Good Of Each Is Seen.

All Great Natures Delight In Stability; All Great Men Find Eternity Affirmed In The Very Promise Of Their Faculties.

The Poise Of A Plant, The Bended Tree Recovering Itself From The Strong Wind, The Vital Resources Of Every Vegetable And Animal, Are Also Demonstrations Of The Self-sufficing, And Therefore Self-relying Soul. All History From Its Highest To Its Trivial Passages Is The Various Record Of This Power.