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Does The Eagle Know What Is In The Pit Or Wilt Thou Go Ask The Mole? Can Wisdom Be Put In A Silver Rod, Or Love In A Golden Bowl?

-William Blake

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Does The Eagle Know

William Blake

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Does The Eagle Know What Is In The Pit Or Wilt Thou Go Ask The Mole? Can Wisdom Be Put In A Silver Rod, Or Love In A Golden Bowl?

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More From William Blake

What Has Reasoning To Do With Painting?

I Thought Love Lived In The Hot Sunshine, But O, He Lives In The Moony Light! I Thought To Find Love In The Heat Of Day, But Sweet Love Is The Comforter Of Night.

Inspirational Love

Knowledge Of Ideal Beauty Is Not To Be Acquired. It Is Born With Us. Innate Ideas Are In Every Man, Born With Him; Theyare Truly Himself.

Prisons Are Built With Stones Of Law. Brothels With The Bricks Of Religion.

When Sir Joshua Reynolds Died All Nature Was Degraded

A Musician, An Artist, An Architect: The Man Or Woman Who Is Not One Of These Is Not A Christian.

Better To Shun The Bait Than Struggle In The Snare.

A Tyrant Is The Worst Disease, And The Cause Of All Others.

Christianity Is Art And Not Money. Money Is Its Curse.

To Generalize Is To Be An Idiot.

O God, Protect Me From My Friends, That They Have Not Power Over Me. Thou Hast Giv'n Me Power To Protect Myself From Thy Bitterest Enemies.

In Every Cry Of Every Man, In Every Infant's Cry Of Fear, In Every Voice, In Every Ban, The Mind-forg'd Manacles I Hear.

It Is The Greatest Of Crimes To Depress True Art And Science.

Drive Your Cart And Plow Over The Bones Of The Dead.

Lo! Now The Direful Monster, Whose Skin Clings To His Strong Bones, Strides O'er The Groaning Rocks: He Withers All In Silence, And His Hand Unclothes The Earth, And Freezes Up Frail Life.

If A Thing Loves, It Is Infinite.

Celebrate Your Existence!

Shame Is Pride's Cloak.

Love's Secret Never Seek To Tell Thy Love, Love That Never Told Can Be; For The Gentle Wind Doth Move Silently, Invisibly. I Told My Love, I Told My Love, I Told Her All My Heart, Trembling, Cold, In Ghastly Fears. Ah! She Did Depart! Soon After She Was Gone From Me, A Traveller Came By, Silently, Invisibly: He Took Her With A Sigh.

A Robin Redbreast In A Cage Puts All Heaven In A Rage.

Where Lambs Have Nibbled, Silent Moves The Feet Of Angels Bright; Unseen They Pour Blessing, And Joy Without Ceasing, On Each Bud And Blossom, And Each Sleeping Bosom.

The Fox Provides For Himself, But God Provides For The Lion.

What Is The Price Of Experience? Do Men Buy It For A Song? Or Wisdom For A Dance In The Street? No, It Is Bought With The Price Of All The Man Hath, His House, His Wife, His Children.

[l]et Light Rise From The Chambers Of The East, And Bring The Honey'd Dew That Cometh On Waking Day. O Radiant Morning.

Although Wine When It Is Read Somewhat Lacks The Savour Of Wine When It Is Drunk, Wine Remains A Very Pleasant Thing Both To Read About And To Chat About.

The Busy Bee Has No Time For Sorrow.

Both Read The Bible Day And Night, But Thou Read Black Where I Read White.

Love To Faults Is Always Blind, Always Is To Joy Inclined. Lawless, Winged, And Unconfined, And Breaks All Chains From Every Mind.

The Cut Worm Forgives The Plow.

To My Eye Rubens' Colouring Is Most Contemptible. His Shadows Are A Filthy Brown Somewhat The Colour Of Excrement.

Every Tear From Every Eyebecomes A Babe In Eternity.

Invention Depends Altogether Upon Execution Or Organization; As That Is Right Or Wrong So Is The Invention Perfect Or Imperfect.

One Power Alone Makes A Poet: Imagination. The Divine Vision.

Poetry Fettered Fetters The Human Race.

It Is Easier To Forgive An Enemy Than To Forgive A Friend.

He Who Shall Hurt The Little Wren Shall Never Be Beloved By Men.

None But Blockheads Copy Each Other.

May God Us Keep From Single Vision And Newton's Sleep.

Nature Has No Outline. Imagination Has.

He Who Shall Teach The Child To Doubtthe Rotting Grave Shall Ne'er Get Out.

That The Jews Assumed A Right Exclusively To The Benefits Of God Will Be A Lasting Witness Against Them And The Same Will It Be Against Christians.

He Who Pretends To Be Either Painter Or Engraver Without Being A Master Of Drawing Is An Imposter.

Travelers Repose And Dream Among My Leaves.

He Who Wants, But Doesn't Act, Is A Pest.

Prepare Your Hearts For Death's Cold Hand! Prepare Your Souls For Flight, Your Bodies For The Earth; Prepare Your Arms For Glorious Victory; Prepare Your Eyes To Meet A Holy God! Prepare, Prepare!

For I Dance And Drink And Sing, Till Some Blind Hand Shall Brush My Wing. If Thought Is Life And Strength And Breath And The Want Of Thought Is Death Then Am I A Happy Fly If I Live Or If I Die

God Only Acts And Is, In Existing Beings Or Men.

To Some People A Tree Is Something So Incredibly Beautiful That It Brings Tears To The Eyes. To Others It Is Just A Green Thing That Stands In The Way.

If You Have Formed A Circle To Go Into,go Into It Yourself And See How You Would Do.

This Life's Dim Windows Of The Soul Distorts The Heavens From Pole To Pole And Leads You To Believe A Lie When You See With, Not Through, The Eye.

Every Harlot Was A Virgin Once.

To Chloe's Breast Young Cupid Slily Stole, But He Crept In At Myra's Pocket-hole.

God Appears, And God Is Light, To Those Poor Souls Who Dwell In Night; But Does A Human Form Display To Those Who Dwell In Realms Of Day.

He Who Loves His Enemies Betrays His Friends; This Surely Is Not What Jesus Meant.

First Thought Is Best In Art, Second In Other Matters.

Acts Themselves Alone Are History, And These Are Neither The Exclusive Property Of Hume, Gibbon Nor Voltaire, Echard, Rapin, Plutarch, Nor Herodotus. Tell Me The Acts, O Historian, And Leave Me To Reason Upon Them As I Please; Away With Your Reasoning And Your Rubbish. All That Is Not Action Is Not Worth Reading.

My Silks And Fine Array, My Smiles And Languished Air, By Love Are Driv'n Away And Mournful Lean Despair Brings Me Yew To Deck My Grave: Such End True Lovers Have.

The Roaring Of Lions, The Howling Of Wolves, The Raging Of The Stormy Sea, And The Destructive Sword, Are Portions Of Eternity, Too Great For The Eye Of Man.

Holy, Holy, Holy Is The Lord God Almighty !

The Woman That Does Not Love Your Frowns Will Never Embrace Your Smiles.

I Wander Thro' Each Charter'd Street, Near Where The Charter'd Thames Does Flow, And Mark In Every Face I Meet Marks Of Weakness, Marks Of Woe. In Every Cry Of Every Man, In Every Infant's Cry Of Fear, In Every Voice, In Every Ban, The Mind-forg'd Manacles I Hear. How The Chimney-sweeper's Cry Every Black'ning Church Appalls; And The Hapless Soldier's Sigh Runs In Blood Down Palace Walls. But Most Thro' Midnight Streets I Hear How The Youthful Harlot's Curse Blasts The New Born Infant's Tear, And Blights With Plagues The Marriage Hearse.

I Give You The End Of A Golden String, Only Wind It Into A Ball, It Will Lead You In At Heaven's Gate Built In Jerusalem's Wall.

Every Wolf's And Lion's Howl Raises From Hell A Human Soul.

The Spirits Of The Air Live On The Smells Of Fruit; And Joy, With Pinions Light, Roves Round The Gardens, Or Sits Singing In The Trees.

Every Man Who Is Not An Artist Is A Traitor To His Own Nature.

Active Evil Is Better Than Passive Good.

Thought Provoking

Piping Down The Valleys Wild, Piping Songs Of Pleasant Glee, On A Cloud I Saw A Child, And He Laughing Said To Me: "pipe A Song About A Lamb." So I Piped With Merry Cheer; "piper, Pipe That Song Again." So I Piped; He Wept To Hear.

Mercy, Pity, And Peace, Are The World's Release.

Father, O Father! What Do We Here In This Land Of Unbelief And Fear?

Mutual Forgiveness Of Each Vice. Such Are The Gates Of Paradise.

Imagination Is The Real And Eternal World Of Which This Vegetable Universe Is But A Faint Shadow.

Where Cheating Is, There's Mischief There.

The Poison Tree I Was Angry With My Friend: I Told My Wrath, My Wrath Did End. I Was Angry With My Foe; I Told It Not, My Wrath Did Grow. And I Water'd It In Fears, Night & Morning With My Tears; And I Sunned It With My Smiles And With Soft Deceitful Wiles. And It Grew Both Day And Night, Till It Bore An Apple Bright; And My Foe Beheld It Shine, And He Knew That It Was Mine, And Into My Garden Stole When The Night Had Veil'd The Pole: In The Morning Glad I See My Foe Outstretch'd Beneath The Tree.

The Mocker Of Art Is The Mocker Of Jesus.

Silent As Despairing Love, And Strong As Jealousy.

Then Cherish Pity, Lest You Drive An Angel From Your Door.

Innocence And Experience

Everything To Be Imagined Is An Image Of Truth.

The Worship Of God Is, Honouring His Gifts In Other Men Each According To His Genius, And Loving The Greatest Men Best; Those Who Envy Or Calumniate Great Men Hate God, For There Is No Other God.

The Eye Altering, Alters All.

Think Not Thou Canst Sigh A Sigh And Thy Maker Is Not By; Think Not Thou Canst Weep A Tear And Thy Maker Is Not Near.

To Be An Error And To Be Cast Out Is A Part Of God's Design.

The Eye Sees More Than The Heart Knows.

Love Is Weak When There Is More Doubt Than There Is Trust, But Love Is Most Strong When You Learn To Trust Even With All The Doubts. If A Thing Loves, It Is Infinite.

As A Man Is, So He Sees.

Thought Provoking

The Pride Of The Peacock Is The Glory Of God.

I Went To The Garden Of Love, And Saw What I Never Had Seen: A Chapel Was Built In The Midst, Where I Used To Play On The Green. And The Gates Of This Chapel Were Shut, And 'thou Shalt Not' Writ Over The Door; So I Turn'd To The Garden Of Love, That So Many Sweet Flowers Bore. And I Saw It Was Filled With Graves, And Tomb-stones Where Flowers Should Be: And Priests In Black Gowns, Were Walking Their Rounds, And Binding With Briars, My Joys & Desires.

If The Doors Of Perception Were Cleansed Everything Would Appear To Man As It Is, Infinite.

Gratitude, In Itself, Is Heaven.

The Fool Who Persists In His Folly Will Become Wise.

Angels Are Happier Than Men And Devils, Because They Are Not Always Prying After Good And Evil In One Another, And Eating The Tree Of Knowledge For Satan's Gratification.

He Who Replies To Words Of Doubt Doth Put The Light Of Knowledge Out.

The Naked Women's Body Is A Portion Of Eternity Too Great For The Eye Of Man.

Execution Is The Chariot Of Genius.

Men Are Admitted Into Heaven Not Because They Have Curbed Or Governed Their Passions, But Because They Have Cultivate Their Understandings.

Eternity Is In Love With The Productions Of Time.

Art Can Never Exist Without Naked Beauty Displayed.

You Become What You Behold.

Innocence Dwells With Wisdom, But Never With Ignorance.

I Am More Famed In Heaven For My Works Than I Could Well Conceive. In My Brain Are Studies & Chambers Filled With Books & Pictures Of Old, Which I Wrote And Painted In Ages Of Eternity Before My Mortal Life; And Whose Works Are The Delight & Study Of Archangels. Why, Then, Should I Be Anxious About The Riches Or Fame Of Mortality?

The Thankful Receiver Bears A Plentiful Harvest.

He Who Has Few Things To Desire Cannot Have Many To Fear.

The Best Wine Is The Oldest, The Best Water The Newest.

Ages Are All Equal. / But Genius Is Always Above The Age.

Every Thing Possible To Be Believ'd Is An Image Of Truth.

I Am In You And You In Me, Mutual In Divine Love.

Christ's Crucifix Shall Be Made An Excuse For Executing Criminals.

Commerce Is So Far From Being Beneficial To Arts, Or To Empire, That It Is Destructive Of Both, As All Their History Shows, For The Above Reason Of Individual Merit Being Its Great Hatred. Empires Flourish Till They Become Commercial, And Then They Are Scattered Abroad To The Four Winds.

All Futurity Seems Teeming With Endless Destruction Never To Be Repelled; Desperate Remorse Swallows The Present In A Quenchless Rage.

Mercy, Pity, Peace Is The World's Release.

For Where'er The Sun Does Shine, And Where'er The Rain Does Fall, Babe Can Never Hunger There, Nor Poverty The Mind Appall.

The Moon, Like A Flower In Heaven's High Bower, With Silent Delight Sits And Smiles On The Night.

How Sweet I Roamed From Field To Field, And Tasted All The Summer's Pride, Till I The Prince Of Love Beheld, Who In The Sunny Beams Did Glide!

A Fool Sees Not The Same Tree That A Wise Man Sees.

He Whose Face Gives No Light, Shall Never Become A Star.

If You Have Form'd A Circle To Go Into, Go Into It Yourself, And See How You Would Do. They Said This Mystery Never Shall Cease: The Priest Promotes War, And The Soldier Peace.

Bring Me An Axe And Spade, Bring Me A Winding-sheet; When I My Grave Have Made Let Winds And Tempests Beat: Then Down I'll Lie As Cold As Clay. True Love Doth Pass Away!

But If At Church They Would Give Some Ale. And A Pleasant Fire Our Souls To Regale. We'd Sing And We'd Pray All The Live Long Day, Nor Ever Once From The Church To Stray.

The Weak In Courage Is Strong In Cunning.

You Cannot Have Liberty In This World Without What You Call Moral Virtue, And You Cannot Have Moral Virtue Without The Slavery Of That Half Of The Human Race Who Hate What You Call Moral Virtue.

He Loves To Sit And Hear Me Sing, Then, Laughing, Sports And Plays With Me; Then Stretches Out My Golden Wing, And Mocks My Loss Of Liberty.

I Heard An Angel Singing; When The Day Was Springing, Mercy, Pity, Peace; Is The World's Release.

To Me This World Is All One Continued Vision Of Fancy Or Imagination, And I Feel Flattered When I Am Told So. What Is It Sets Homer, Virgil And Milton In So High A Rank Of Art? Why Is The Bible More Entertaining And Instructive Than Any Other Book? Is It Not Because They Are Addressed To The Imagination, Which Is Spiritual Sensation, And But Immediately To The Understanding Or Reason?

Embraces Are Comminglings From The Head Even To The Feet, And Not A Pompous High Priest Entering By A Secret Place.

But To Go To School In A Summer Morn, O! It Drives All Joy Away; Under A Cruel Eye Outworn, The Little Ones Spend The Day In Sighing And Dismay.

The Errors Of A Wise Man Make Your Rule Rather Than The Perfections Of A Fool.

The Child's Toys And The Old Man's Reasons Are The Fruits Of Two Seasons.

He Who Would Do Good To Another Must Do It In Minute Particulars: General Good Is The Plea Of The Scoundrel, Hypocrite, And Flatterer, For Art And Science Cannot Exist But In Minutely Organized Particulars.

Each Man Must Create His Own System Or Else He Is A Slave To Another Mans

O White-robed Angel, Guide My Timorous Hand To Write As On A Lofty Rock With Iron Pen The Words Of Truth, That All Who Pass May Read.

Let Every Christian, As Much As In Him Lies, Engage Himself Openly And Publicly, Before All The World, In Some Mental Pursuit For The Building Up Of Jerusalem.

The Pure Soul Shall Mount On Native Wings, . . . And Cut A Path Into The Heaven Of Glory.

My Mother Groaned, My Father Wept, Into The Dangerous World I Leapt.

You Throw The Sand Against The Wind And The Wind Blows It Back Again.

She Who Dwells With Me Whom I Have Loved With Such Communion, That No Place On Earth Can Ever Be Solitude To Me.

Why A Tender Curb Upon The Youthful Burning Boy? Why A Little Curtain Of Flesh On The Bed Of Our Desire?

O Autumn, Laden With Fruit, And Stained With The Blood Of The Grape, Pass Not, But Sit Beneath My Shady Roof; There Thou May'st Rest, And Tune Thy Jolly Voice To My Fresh Pipe; And All The Daughters Of The Year Shall Dance! Sing Now The Lusty Song Of Fruit And Flowers.

When Nations Grow Old The Arts Grow Cold And Commerce Settles On Every Tree

If You Would Help Another Man, You Must Do So In Minute Particulars.

What Is A Wife And What Is A Harlot? What Is A Church And What Is A Theatre? Are They Two And Not One? Can They Exist Separate? Are Not Religion And Politics The Same Thing? Brotherhood Is Religion. O Demonstrations Of Reason Dividing Families In Cruelty And Pride!

For The Eye Altering Alters All; The Senses Roll Themselves In Fear And The Flat Earth Becomes A Ball.

Pay Attention To Minute Particulars. Take Care Of The Little Ones. Generalization And Abstraction Are The Plea Of The Hypocrite, Scoundrel, And Knave.

England! Awake! Awake! Awake! Jerusalem Thy Sister Calls! Why Wilt Thou Sleep The Sleep Of Death And Close Her From Thy Ancient Walls?

When A Man Has Married A Wifehe Finds Out Whetherher Knees & Elbows Are Onlyglued Together.

What Is Grand Is Necessarily Obscure To Weak Men. That Which Can Be Made Explicit To The Idiot Is Not Worth My Care.

If The Doors Of Perception Were Cleansed Everything Would Appear To Man As It Is, Infinite. For Man Has Closed Himself Up, Till He Sees All Things Thru Chinks Of His Cavern.

Enthusiastic Admiration Is The First Principle Of Knowledge And Its Last.

Grown Old In Love From Seven Till Seven Times Seven,i Oft Have Wished For Hell For Ease From Heaven.

If You Cannot Imagine With The Mind's Eye Much More Than You Can See With The Mortal Eye, You Have A Very Poor Imagination Indeed.

Man Has No Body Distinct From His Soul; For That Called Body Is A Portion Of Soul Discerned By The Five Senses, The Chief Inlets Of Soul In This Age.

I Am Really Sorry To See My Countrymen Trouble Themselves About Politics. If Men Were Wise, The Most Arbitrary Princes Could Not Hurt Them. If They Are Not Wise, The Freest Government Is Compelled To Be A Tyranny. Princes Appear To Me To Be Fools. Houses Of Commons And Houses Of Lords Appear To Me To Be Fools; They Seem To Me To Be Something Else Besides Human Life.

Time Is The Mercy Of Eternity; Without Time's Swiftness Which Is The Swiftest Of All Things, All Were Eternal Torment.

Energy Is An Eternal Delight.

What Is Now Proved Was Once Only Imagined.

I Am Under The Direction Of Messengers From Heaven Daily And Nightly.

Without Minute Neatness Of Execution, The Sublime Cannot Exist! Grandeur Of Ideas Is Founded On Precision Of Ideas.

He Who Does Not Imagine In Stronger And Better Lineaments, And In Stronger And Better Light Than His Perishing And Mortal Eye Can See, Does Not Imagine At All.

Can I See Another's Woe, And Not Be In Sorrow Too? Can I See Another's Grief, And Not Seek For Kind Relief?

The Man Who Pretends To Be A Modest Enquirer Into The Truth Of A Self-evident Thing Is A Knave.

Jesus & His Apostles & Disciples Were All Artists

God And His Priest And King,...make Up A Heaven Of Our Misery.

When I Tell The Truth, It Is Not For The Sake Of Convincing Those Who Do Not Know It, But For The Sake Of Defending Those That Do.

Does A Firm Persuasion That A Thing Is So, Make It So?

How Can The Bird That Is Born For Joy Sit In A Cage And Sing? How Can A Child, When Fears Annoy, But Droop His Tender Wing, And Forget His Youthful Spring?

When The Sun Rises, Do You Not See A Round Disc Of Fire Somewhat Like A Guinea? O No, No, I See An Innumerable Company Of The Heavenly Host Crying Holy, Holy, Holy Is The Lord God Almighty.

Where There Is Money There Is No Art.

Why Stand We Here Trembling Around, Calling On God For Help, And Not Ourselves, In Whom God Dwells?

Where Any View Of Money Exists, Art Cannot Be Carried On.

O Thou With Dewy Locks, Who Lookest Down Thro' The Clear Windows Of The Morning, Turn Thine Angel Eyes Upon Our Western Isle, Which In Full Choir Hails Thy Approach, O Spring! The Hills Tell Each Other, And The Listening Valleys Hear; All Our Longing Eyes Are Turned Up To Thy Bright Pavilions: Issue Forth, And Let Thy Holy Feet Visit Our Clime. Come O'er The Eastern Hills, And Let Our Winds Kiss Thy Perfumed Garments; Let Us Taste Thy Morn And Evening Breath; Scatter Thy Pearls Upon Our Love-sick Land That Mourns For Thee.

A Dog Starved At His Master's Gate Predicts The Ruin Of The State.

Robin Redbreast

Struggling In My Father's Hands, Striving Against My Swaddling Bands, Bound And Weary, I Thought Best To Sulk Upon My Mother's Breast.

And Is He Honest Who Resists His Genius Or Conscience Only For The Sake Of Present Ease Or Gratification

Always Be Ready To Speak Your Mind, And A Base Man Will Avoid You.

Speak Your Mind

The World Of Imagination Is The World Of Eternity. It Is The Divine Bosom Into Which We Shall All Go After Death Of The Vegetative Body.

Nature In Darkness Groans And Men Are Bound To Sullen Contemplation In The Night: Restless They Turn On Beds Of Sorrow; In Their Inmost Brain Feeling The Crushing Wheels, They Rise, They Write The Bitter Words Of Stern Philosophy And Knead The Bread Of Knowledge With Tears And Groans.

Mock On, Mock On, Voltaire, Rousseau! Mock On, Mock On: 'tis All In Vain! You Throw The Sand Against The Wind, And The Wind Blows It Back Again. And Every Sand Becomes A Gem Reflected In The Beams Divine; Blown Back They Blind The Mocking Eye, But Still In Israel's Paths They Shine. The Atoms Of Democritus And Newton's Particles Of Light Are Sands Upon The Red Sea Shore, Where Israel's Tents Do Shine So Bright.

When Sir Joshua Reynolds Died All Nature Was Degraded; The King Dropped A Tear In The Queen's Ear, And All His Pictures Faded.

But When He Has Done This, Let Him Not Say That He Knows Better Than His Master, For He Only Holds A Candle In Sunshine.

All The Destruction In Christian Europe Has Arisen From Deism, Which Is Natural Religion.

Nothing Can Be More Contemptible Than To Suppose Public Records To Be True.

Energy Is The Only Life, And Is From The Body; And Reason Is The Bound Or Outward Circumference Of Energy. Energy Is Eternal Delight.

There Can Be No Good Will. Will Is Always Evil; It Is Persecution To Others Or Selfishness.

Every Mortal Loss Is An Immortal Gain.

As The Caterpillar Chooses The Fairest Leaves To Lay Her Eggs On, So The Priest Lays His Curse On The Fairest Joys.

Wisdom Is Sold In A Desolate Marketplace Where None Can Come To Buy.

They Who Forgive Most Shall Be Most Forgiven.

Truth Can Never Be Told So As To Be Understood And Not Be Believed.

There Is No Mistake So Great As The Mistake Of Not Going On.

Poetry, Painting & Music, The Three Powers In Man Of Conversing With Paradise, Which The Flood Did Not Sweep Away.

He Who Binds To Himself A Joy Does The Winged Life Destroy; But He Who Kisses The Joy As It Flies Lives In Eternity's Sun Rise.

Reason, Or The Ratio Of All We Have Already Known, Is Not The Same That It Shall Be When We Know More.

I Care Not Whether A Man Is Good Or Evil; All That I Care / Is Whether He Is A Wise Man Or A Fool. Go! Put Off Holiness, / And Put On Intellect.

Imitation Is Criticism.

He Who Desires, But Acts Not, Breeds Pestilence.

Enlightenment Means Taking Full Responsibility For Your Life.

Hindsight Is A Wonderful Thing But Foresight Is Better, Especially When It Comes To Saving Life, Or Some Pain!

The Hand Of Vengeance Found The Bed To Which The Purple Tyrant Fled The Iron Hand Crush'd The Tyrant's Head And Became Tyrant In His Stead.

Thinking As I Do That The Creator Of This World Is A Very Cruel Being, And Being A Worshipper Of Christ, I Cannot Help Saying: ''the Son, O How Unlike The Father!'' First God Almighty Comes With A Thump On The Head. Then Jesus Christ Comes With A Balm To Heal It.

Gratitude Is Heaven Itself.

As I Was Walking Among The Fires Of Hell, Delighted With The Enjoyments Of Genius; Which To Angels Look Like Torment And Insanity, I Collected Some Of Their Proverbs.

Art Degraded, Imagination Denied.

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