Skepticism Is Slow Suicide.

The Philanthropists Inquire Whether Transcendentalism Does Not Mean Sloth: They Had As Lief Hear That Their Friend Is Dead, As That He Is A Transcendentalist; For Then Is He Paralyzed, And Can Never Do Anything For Humanity.

There Is Simply The Rose; It Is Perfect In Every Moment Of Its Existence.

A System-grinder Hates The Truth.

Profound Sincerity Is The Only Basis Of Talent As Of Character.

The Finest Poems Of The World Have Been Expedients To Get Bread.