Not one man in five cycles, who is wise, will expect appreciative recognition from his fellows, or any one of them.
Mystery is in the morning, and mystery in the night, and the beauty of mystery is everywhere.
My body is but the lees of my better being.
Let us speak, though we show all our faults and weaknesses, – for it is a sign of strength to be weak, to know it, and out with it – not in a set way and ostentatiously, though, but incidentally and without premeditation.
It is the easiest thing in the world for a man to look as if he had a great secret in him.
It is impossible to talk or to write without apparently throwing oneself helplessly open.
Immortality is but ubiquity in time.
I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I’ll go to it laughing.
He looked like a man cut away from the stake, when the fire has overrunningly wasted all the limbs without consuming them, or taking away one particle from their compacted aged robustness.
Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope.
Delight is to him—a far, far upward, and inward delight—who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Call me Ishmael.
