Spirits That Have Once Been

Essays, Entitled Critical, Are Epistles Addressed To The Public, Through Which The Mind Of The Recluse Relieves Itself Of Its Impressions.

Tragedy Is Always A Mistake; And The Loneliness Of The Deepest Thinker, The Widest Lover, Ceases To Be Pathetic To Us So Soon As The Sun Is High Enough Above The Mountains.

A Man Who Means To Think And Write A Great Deal Must, After Six And Twenty, Learn To Read With His Fingers.

The Use Of Criticism, In Periodical Writing, Is To Sift, Not To Stamp A Work.

Tremble Not Before The Free Man, But Before The Slave Who Has Chains To Break.