Toil Without Song Is Like A Weary

Race Prejudice Is A Gift Of Nature, Intended To Preserve In Purity The Various Divisions Of Mankind Which The Ages Have Evolved.

The Darkness Always Teemed With Unexplained Sound - And Yet He Sometimes Shook With Fear Lest The Noises He Heard Subside And Allow Him To Hear Certain Other Fainter Noises Which He Suspected Were Lurking Behind Them.

Though Not A Participant In The Business Of Life; I Am, Like The Character Of Addison And Steele, An Impartial (or More Or Less Impartial) Spectator, Who Finds Not A Little Recreation In Watching The Antics Of Those Strange And Puny Puppets Called Men.

For Although Nepenthe Has Calmed Me, I Know Always That I Am An Outsider; A Stranger In This Century And Among Those Who Are Still Men. This I Have Known Ever Since I Stretched Out My Fingers To The Abomination Within That Great Gilded Frame; Stretched Out My Fingers And Touched A Cold And Unyielding Surface Of Polished Glass.

Our Means Of Receiving Impressions Are Absurdly Few, And Our Notions Of Surrounding Objects Infinitely Narrow. We See Things Only As We Are Constructed To See Them, And Can Gain No Idea Of Their Absolute Nature. With Five Feeble Senses We Pretend To Comprehend The Boundlessly Complex Cosmos.