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Love Seeketh Not Itself To Please, Nor For Itself Hath Any Care, But For Another Gives Its Ease, And Builds A Heaven In Hell's Despair.

-William Blake

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Love Seeketh Not Itself

William Blake

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Love Seeketh Not Itself To Please, Nor For Itself Hath Any Care, But For Another Gives Its Ease, And Builds A Heaven In Hell's Despair.

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To Mercy, Pity, Peace And Love All Pray In Their Distress, And To These Virtues Of Delight Return Their Thankfulness.

He Who Sees The Infinite In All Things Sees God.

How Can A Bird That Is Born For Joy Sit In A Cage And Sing?

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.

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

A Divine Image Cruelty Has A Human Heart, And Jealousy A Human Face; Terror The Human Form Divine, And Secresy The Human Dress. The Human Dress Is Forged Iron, The Human Form A Fiery Forge, The Human Face A Furnace Sealed, The Human Heart Its Hungry Gorge.

Everything To Be Imagined Is An Image Of Truth.

And We Are Put On Earth A Little Space, That We May Learn To Bear The Beams Of Love.

Kill Not The Moth Nor Butterfly, For The Last Judgement Draweth Nigh.

The Little Ones Leaped, And Shouted, And Laugh'd And All The Hills Echoed

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.

The Ancient Poets Animated All Sensible Objects With Gods Or Geniuses, Calling Them By The Names And Adorning Them With The Properties Of Woods, Rivers, Mountains, Lakes, Cities, Nations, And Whatever Their Enlarged & Numerous Senses Could Perceive.

Man Has Closed Himself Up, Till He Sees All Things Thro' Narrow Chinks Of His Cavern.

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

Robin Redbreast

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.

But Most Thro' Midnight Streets I Hear How The Youthful Harlots Curse Blasts The New-born Infants Tear And Blights With Plagues The Marriage Hearse

The Angel That Presided O'er My Birth Said, 'little Creature, Formed Of Joy And Mirth, Go Love Without The Help Of Any Thing On Earth'.

He Who Makes His Law A Curse, By His Own Law Shall Surely Die.

The Stars Are Threshed, And The Souls Are Threshed From Their Husks.

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

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

What Is It Men In Women Do Require: The Lineaments Of Gratified Desire. What Is It Women Do In Men Require: The Lineaments Of Gratified Desire.

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

O Thou Who Passest Through Our Valleys In Thy Strength, Curb Thy Fierce Steeds, Allay The Heat That Flames From Their Large Nostrils! Thou, O Summer, Oft Pitchest Here Thy Golden Tent, And Oft Beneath Our Oaks Hast Slept, While We Beheld With Joy Thy Ruddy Limbs And Flourishing Hair.

When A Sinister Person Means To Be Your Enemy, They Always Start By Trying To Become Your Friend.

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

Speak Your Mind

Where There Is Money There Is No Art.

Celebrate Your Existence!

Tools Were Made And Born Were Hands, Every Farmer Understands.

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

You Smile With Pomp And Rigor, You Talk Of Benevolence And Virtue; I Act With Benevolence And Virtue And Get Murdered Time After Time.

The Britons (say Historians) Were Naked, Civilized Men, Learned, Studious, Abstruse In Thought And Contemplation; Naked, Simple, Plain In Their Acts And Manners; Wiser Than After Ages.

I Asked A Thief To Steal Me A Peach: He Turned Up His Eyes. I Asked A Lithe Lady To Lie Her Down: Holy And Meek, She Cries. As Soon As I Went An Angel Came. He Winked At The Thief And Smiled At The Dame- And Without One Word Spoke Had A Peach From The Tree, And 'twixt Earnest And Joke Enjoyed The Lady.

Demonstration, Similitude & Harmony Are Objects Of Reasoning. Invention, Identity & Melody Are Objects Of Intuition.

To Mercy Pity Peace And Love All Pray In Their Distress, And To These Virtues Of Delight Return Their Thankfulness. For Mercy Pity Peace And Love Is God Our Father Dear. And Mercy Pity Peace And Love Is Man His Child And Care. Then Every Man Of Every Clime That Prays In His Distress Prays To The Human Form Divine: Love Mercy Pity Peace. And All Must Love The Human Form In Heathen, Turk, Or Jew. Where Mercy, Love And Pity Dwell There God Is Dwelling Too.

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

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.

The Hours Of Folly Are Measured By The Clock; But Of Wisdom, No Clock Can Measure.

The Soul Of Sweet Delight, Can Never Be Defiled.

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.

Let The Men Do Their Duty & The Women Will Be Such Wonders; The Female Life Lives From The Light Of The Male: See A Man's Female Dependants, You Know The Man.

In Your Own Bosom You Bear Your Heaven And Earth, And All You Behold, Though It Appears Without, It Is Within, In Your Imagination, Of Which This World Of Mortality Is But A Shadow.

For Everything That Lives Is Holy, Life Delights In Life.

Rome & Greece Swept Art Into Their Maw & Destroy'd It; A Warlike State Never Can Produce Art. It Will Rob & Plunder & Accumulate Into One Place, & Translate & Copy & Buy & Sell & Criticize, But Not Make.

We Are Led To Believe A Lie When We See Not Through The Eye.

The Mocker Of Art Is The Mocker Of Jesus.

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.

The Eye Altering, Alters All.

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

When Thou Seest An Eagle, Thou Seest A Portion Of Genius; Lift Up Thy Head!

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

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

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

Knowledge Is Life With Wings

The Whole Business Of Man Is The Arts, & All Things Common.

Dear Mother, Dear Mother, The Church Is Cold, But The Ale-house Is Healthy And Pleasant And Warm.

I Must Create A System, Or Be Enslav'd By Another Man's.

The Vision Of Christ That Thou Dost See Is My Vision's Greatest Enemy.

He Who Has Suffered You To Impose On Him Knows You.

Sleep, Sleep, Beauty Bright,dreaming O'er The Joys Of Night.sleep, Sleep: In Thy Sleeplittle Sorrows Sit And Weep.

When Sir Joshua Reynolds Died All Nature Was Degraded

The Foundation Of Empire Is Art And Science. Remove Them Or Degrade Them, And The Empire Is No More. Empire Follows Art And Not Vice Versa As Englishmen Suppose.

As We Are, So We See.

The Bat That Flits At Close Of Eve Has Left The Brain That Won't Believe. The Owl That Calls Upon The Night Speaks The Unbeliever's Fright.

Little Fly, Thy Summer's Play My Thoughtless Hand Has Brushed Away. Am Not I A Fly Like Thee? Or Art Not Thou A Man Like Me? For I Dance And Drink And Sing, Till Some Blind Hand Shall Brush My Wing!

Energy Is Eternal Delight.

Want Of Money And The Distress Of A Thief Can Never Be Alleged As The Cause Of His Thieving, For Many Honest People Endure Greater Hardships With Fortitude. We Must Therefore Seek The Cause Elsewhere Than In Want Of Money, For That Is The Miser's Passion, Not The Thief S.

My Mother Bore Me In The Southern Wild, And I Am Black, But O! My Soul Is White; White As An Angel Is The English Child, But I Am Black As If Bereaved Of Light.

Men Are Admitted Into Heaven Not Because They Have Curbed And Governed Their Passions Or Have No Passions, But Because They Have Cultivated Their Understandings. The Treasures Of Heaven Are Not Negations Of Passion, But Realities Of Intellect, From Which All The Passions Emanate Uncurbed In Their Eternal Glory.

And I Made A Rural Pen, And I Stained The Water Clear, And I Wrote My Happy Songs Every Child May Joy To Hear.

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

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

Mercy Is The Golden Chain By Which Society Is Bound Together.

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!

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

The Fool Who Persists In His Folly Will Become Wise.

The Prophets Isaiah And Ezekiel Dined With Me, And I Asked Them How They Dared So Roundly To Assert, That God Spoke To Them; And Whether They Did Not Think At The Time, That They Would Be Misunderstood, & So Be The Cause Of Imposition. Isaiah Answer'd, I Saw No God, Nor Heard Any, In A Finite Organical Perception; But My Senses Discover'd The Infinite In Every Thing, And As I Was Then Persuaded, & Remain Confirm'd; That The Voice Of Honest Indignation Is The Voice Of God, I Cared Not For Consequences But Wrote.

The Fool Shall Not Enter Into Heaven Let Him Be Ever So Holy.

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?

To Generalize Is To Be An Idiot.

Art Is The Tree Of Life. Science Is The Tree Of Death.

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.

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!

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

The Busy Bee Has No Time For Sorrow.

Tyger! Tyger! Burning Bright In The Forests Of The Night, What Immortal Hand Or Eye Could Frame Thy Fearful Symmetry?

Every Harlot Was A Virgin Once.

Nothing Is Real Beyond Imaginative Patterns Men Make Of Reality.

The Strongest Poison Ever Known Came From Caesar's Laurel Crown.

Ah, Sunflower, Weary Of Time, Who Countest The Steps Of The Sun, Seeking After That Sweet Golden Clime Where The Traveller's Journey Is Done; Where The Youth Pined Away With Desire And The Pale Virgin Shrouded In Snow Arise From Their Graves, And Aspire Where My Sunflower Wishes To Go.

My Brother Starv'd Between Two Walls,his Children's Cry My Soul Appalls

The Fields From Islington To Marybone, To Primrose Hill And Saint John's Wood, Were Builded Over With Pillars Of Gold; And There Jerusalem's Pillars Stood.

Active Evil Is Better Than Passive Good.

Thought Provoking

I See The Past, Present & Future Existing All At Once Before Me.

Past Present Future

Joy And Woe Are Woven Fine.

The Wrath Of The Lion Is The Wisdom Of God.

Art Degraded, Imagination Denied.

Poetry Fettered, Fetters The Human Race. Nations Are Destroyed Or Flourish In Proportion As Their Poetry, Painting, And Music Are Destroyed Or Flourish.

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

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

Down The Winding Cavern We Groped Our Tedious Way, Till A Void Boundless As The Nether Sky Appeared Beneath Us, And We Held By The Roots Of Trees And Hung Over This Immensity; But I Said: If You Please We Will Commit Ourselves To This Void And See Whether Providence Is Here Also.

To Create A Little Flower Is The Labour Of Ages.

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

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

I Have Conversed With The Spiritual Sun. I Saw Him On Primrose Hill

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.

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

I See Through My Eyes, Not With Them.

Through My Eyes

Where Others See But The Dawn Coming Over The Hill, I See The Soul Of God Shouting For Joy.

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 Thankful Receiver Bears A Plentiful Harvest.

Excessive Sorrow Laughs. Excessive Joy Weeps.

All Pictures That's Painted With Sense And With Thought / Are Painted By Madmen As Sure As A Groat; / For The Greater The Fool In The Pencil More Blest, / And When They Are Drunk They Always Paint Best.

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

Gratitude Is Heaven Itself; There Could Be No Heaven Without Gratitude.

What Has Reason To Do With The Art Of Painting?

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

Can I See Another's Woe, And Not Be In Sorrow Too? Can I See Another's Grief, And Not Seek For Kind Relief? Can I See A Falling Tear, And Not Feel My Sorrow's Share? Can A Father See His Child Weep, Nor Be With Sorrow Filled? Can A Mother Sit And Hear An Infant Groan, An Infant Fear? No, No! Never Can It Be! Never, Never Can It Be!

Forgive What You Do Not Approve & Love Me For This Energetic Exertion Of My Talent

The Apple Tree Never Asks The Beech How He Shall Grow, Nor The Lion, The Horse, How He Shall Take His Prey.

I Have Mental Joys And Mental Health, Mental Friends And Mental Wealth, I've A Wife That I Love And That Loves Me; I've All But Riches Bodily.

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

The Lamb Misused Breeds Public Strife And Yet Forgives The Butcher's Knife.

The Imagination Is Not A State: It Is The Human Existence Itself.

None But Blockheads Copy Each Other.

How Do You Know But Ev’ry Bird That Cuts The Airy Way, Is An Immense World Of Delight, Clos’d By Your Senses Five?

The Ruins Of Time Build Mansions In Eternity.

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

Time Is The Mercy Of Eternity

If You Trap The Moment Before It's Ripe, The Tears Of Repentence You'll Certainly Wipe; But If Once You Let The Ripe Moment Go You Can Never Wipe Off The Tears Of Woe.

No Bird Soars Too High If He Soars With His Own Wings.

General Knowledges Are Those Knowledges That Idiots Possess.

General Knowledge

Gratitude, In Itself, Is Heaven.

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

A Skylark Wounded In The Wing, / A Cherubim Does Cease To Sing.

Improvement Makes Strait Roads, But The Crooked Roads Without Improvement, Are Roads Of Genius.

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.

The Sick Rose O Rose, Thou Art Sick. The Invisible Worm That Flies In The Night In The Howling Storm Has Found Out Thy Bed Of Crimson Joy, And His Dark Secret Love Does Thy Life Destroy.

As A Man Is, So He Sees.

Thought Provoking

The Old And New Testaments Are The Great Code Of Art.

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

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

The Cistern Contains: The Fountain Overflows.

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.

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

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

O Earth, O Earth, Return! Arise From Out The Dewy Grass; Night Is Worn; And The Morn Rises From The Slumbrous Mass.

You Never Know What Is Enough Unless You Know What Is More Than Enough.

Thought Provoking

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

To Generalize Is To Be An Idiot. To Particularize Is The Alone Distinction Of Merit. General Knowledge Are Those Knowledge That Idiots Possess.

Every Mortal Loss Is An Immortal Gain.

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.

Does A Firm Persuasion That A Thing Is So, Make It So?" He Replied, "all Poets Believe It Does. And In Ages Of Imagination, This Firm Persuasion Removes Mountains; But Many Are Not Capable Of Firm Persuasion Of Anything.

Mans Desires Are Limited By His Perceptions; None Can Desire What He Has Not Perceived.

I Have No Name: I Am But Two Days Old. What Shall I Call Thee? I Happy Am, Joy Is My Name. Sweet Joy Befall Thee!

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.

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

If The Lion Was Advised By The Fox, He Would Be Cunning.

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

If The Sun And Moon Should Ever Doubt, They'd Immediately Go Out.

O Winter! Bar Thine Adamantine Doors: The North Is Thine; There Hast Thou Build Thy Dark, Deep-founded Habitation. Shake Not Thy Roofs, Nor Bend Thy Pillars With Thine Iron Car.

Naught Can Deform The Human Race Like To The Armor's Iron Brace.

The Eagle Never Lost So Much Time As When He Submitted To Learn Of The Crow

Prudence Is A Rich, Ugly, Old Maid Courted By Incapacity.

Where Cheating Is, There's Mischief There.

Shame Is Pride's Cloak.

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?

Praises Reap Not! Joys Laugh Not! Sorrows Weep Not!

Desperate Remorse Swallows The Present In A Quenchless Rage.

Art Can Never Exist Without Naked Beauty Displayed.

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.

And Did Those Feet In Ancient Time Walk Upon England's Mountains Green? And Was The Holy Lamb Of God On England's Pleasant Pastures Seen?

To See A World In A Grain Of Sand And A Heaven In A Wild Flower, Hold Infinity In The Palm Of Your Hand, And Eternity In An Hour.

Enlightenment Means Taking Full Responsibility For Your Life.

The Nakedness Of Woman Is The Work Of God.

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.

Think In The Morning. Act In The Noon. Eat In The Evening. Sleep In The Night.

Love Seeketh Only Self To Please, To Bind Another To Its Delight, Joys In Another's Loss Of Ease, And Builds A Hell In Heaven's Despite.

Those Who Restrain Desire, Do So Because Theirs Is Weak Enough To Be Restrained; And The Restrainer Or Reason Usurps Its Place & Governs The Unwilling. And Being Restrain'd It By Degrees Becomes Passive Till It Is Only The Shadow Of Desire.

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

The World Of Imagination Is The World Of Eternity.

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

Fun I Love, But Too Much Fun Is Of All Things The Most Loathsome. Mirth Is Better Than Fun, And Happiness Is Better Than Mirth.

What Seems To Be, Is, To Those To Whom It Seems To Be, And Is Productive Of The Most Dreadful Consequences To Those To Whom It Seems To Be, Even Of Torments, Despair, Eternal Death.

I Myself Do Nothing. The Holy Spirit Accomplishes All Through Me.

Oh! Why Was I Born With A Different Face? Why Was I Not Born Like The Rest Of My Race? When I Look,each One Starts! When I Speak, I Offend; Then Im Silent & Passive & Lose Every Friend. Then My Verse I Dishonour, My Pictures Despise, My Person Degrade & My Temper Chastise; And The Pen Is My Terror, The Pencil My Shame; All My Talents I Bury, And Dead Is My Fame. Im Either Too Low Or Too Highly Prized; When Elate I M Envy'd, When Meek Im Despis'd

Different Faces

Joys Impregnate. Sorrows Bring Forth.

The Person Who Does Not Believe In Miracles Surely Makes It Certain That He Or She Will Never Take Part In One.

To The Eyes Of A Miser A Guinea Is More Beautiful Than The Sun, And A Bag Worn With The Use Of Money Has More Beautiful Proportions Than A Vine Filled With Grapes.

The Difference Between A Bad Artist And A Good One Is: The Bad Artist Seems To Copy A Great Deal; The Good One Really Does.

Thought Provoking

The Pride Of The Peacock Is The Glory Of God.

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

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.

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

Make Your Own Rules Or Be A Slave To Another Man's.

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

A Dog Starv'd At The Master's Gate Predicts The Ruin Of The State. A Horse Misus'd Upon The Road Calls To Heaven For Human Blood. Each Outcry Of The Hunted Hare A Fibre From The Brain Does Tear, A Skylark Wounded On The Wing, A Cherubim Does Cease To Sing.

The Reason Milton Wrote In Fetters When He Wrote Of Angels And God, And At Liberty When Of Devils And Hell, Is Because He Was A True Poet And Of The Devil's Party Without Knowing It.

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

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

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