I Trust That Age Doth

It Is, I Admit, Mere Imagination; But How Often Is Imagination The Mother Of Truth?

What Can We Know? What Are We All? Poor Silly Half-brained Things Peering Out At The Infinite, With The Aspirations Of Angels And The Instinct Of Beasts.

It Is Of The Highest Importance In The Art Of Detection To Be Able To Recognise Out Of A Number Of Facts Which Are Incidental And Which Are Vital.

There Is A Mystery About This Which Stimulates The Imagination; Where There Is No Imagination There Is No Horror.

Let Us Hear The Suspicions. I Will Look After The Proofs.