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Imagination is the air of mind.
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Evil is limited. One cannot form A scheme for universal evil.
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As the master so the valet.
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What men call accident is God's own part.
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Words are the motes of thought, and nothing more.
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Lowliness is the base of every virtue, And he who goes the lowest builds the safest.
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I am tired of looking on what is, One might as well see beauty never more, As look upon it with an empty eye. I would this world were over. I am tired.
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Dreams are rudiments Of the great state to come. We dream what is About to happen.
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Blessings star forth forever; but a curse is like a cloud, it passes.
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They who forgive most shall be most forgiven.
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Life's but a means unto an end, that end, Beginning, mean, and end to all things--God.
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He who has most of heart knows most of sorrow.
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Doubt is the shadow of truth.
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The heart is its own Fate.
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Dewdrops, Nature's tears, which she Sheds in her own breast for the fair which die. The sun insists on gladness; but at night, When he is gone, poor Nature loves to weep.
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Envy's a coal comes hissing hot from Hell.
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The world will find out that part of your character which concerns it: that which especially concerns yourself, it will leave for you to discover.
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Love is the art of hearts, and heart or arts.
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The hero is the world-man, in whose heart One passion stands for all, the most indulged.
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Offended vanity is the great separator in social life.
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The worst men often give the best advice. Our deeds are sometimes better than our thoughts.
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Poetry is itself a thing of God; He made his prophets poets; and the more We feel of poesie do we become Like God in love and power,-under-makers.
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Death is the universal salt of states; Blood is the base of all things--law and war.
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Not a single path Of thought I tread, but that it leads to God.