A Farm Is A Good Thing, When

Jesus And Shakespeare Are Fragments Of The Soul, And By Love I Conquer And Incorporate Them In My Own Conscious Domain. His Virtue,--is Not That Mine? His Wit,--if It Cannot Be Made Mine, It Is Not Wit.

Natural Religion Supplies Still All The Facts Which Are Disguised Under The Dogma Of Popular Creeds. The Progress Of Religion Is Steadily To Its Identity With Morals.

When There Is No Vision, People Perish.

That Man Is Idle Who Can Do Something Better.

Where Do We Find Ourselves? In A Series Of Which We Do Not Know The Extremes, And Believe That It Has None. We Wake And Find Ourselves On A Stair; There Are Stairs Below Us, Which We Seem To Have Ascended; There Are Stairs Above Us, Many A One, Which Go Upward And Out Of Sight.