We ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all.
Thus we see how that the spine of even the hugest of living things tapers off at last into simple child’s play.
To think’s audacity. God only has that right and privilege. Thinking is, or ought to be, a coolness and a calmness; and our poor hearts throb, and our poor brains beat too much for that.
To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell’s heart, I stab at thee; For hate’s sake, I spit my last breath at thee.
To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme. No great and enduring volume can ever be written on the flea, though many there be that have tried it.