Hatred Is A Heavy Burden.

Enjoy What Thou Has Inherited From Thy Sires If Thou Wouldn't Really Possess It. What We Employ And Use Is Never An Oppressive Burden; What The Moment Brings Forth, That Only Can It Profit By.

Light Has Called Forth One Organ To Become Its Like, And Thus The Eye Is Formed By The Light And For The Light So That The Inner Light May Emerge To Meet The Outer Light.

We Will Burn That Bridge When We Come To It.

Let Us Not Dream That Reason Can Ever Be Popular. Passions, Emotions, May Be Made Popular; But Reason Remains Ever The Property Of An Elect Few.

There Is But One Poetry,--true Poetry.