When We Read, We Fancy

Genius Without Religion Is Only A Lamp On The Outer Gate Of A Palace; It May Serve To Cast A Gleam Of Light On Those That Are Without, While The Inhabitant Sits In Darkness.

Imagination Frames Events Unknown, In Wild, Fantastic Shapes Of Hideous Ruin, And What It Fears Creates.

A Corrupt Practice May Be Abolished, But A Soiled Imagination Is Not Easily Cleansed.

The World Does Not Require So Much To Be Informed As To Be Reminded.

The Wretch Who Digs The Mine For Bread, Or Ploughs, That Others May Be Fed, Feels Less Fatigued Than That Decreed To Him Who Cannot Think Or Read.