The fields from Islington to Marybone, To Primrose Hill and Saint John’s Wood, Were builded over with pillars of gold; And there Jerusalem’s pillars stood.
As I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of Genius; which to Angels look like torment and insanity, I collected some of their Proverbs.
A musician, an artist, an architect: the man or woman who is not one of these is not a Christian.
I heard an Angel singing; When the day was springing, Mercy, Pity, Peace; Is the world’s release.
I am going to that country which I have all my life wished to see.
Innocence dwells with Wisdom, but never with ignorance...
I have conversed with the spiritual Sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill.
O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors: The north is thine; there hast thou build thy dark, Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs, Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.
Bring me my bow of burning gold: Bring me my arrows of desire: Bring me my spear: O clouds, unfold! Bring me my chariot of fire.
Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so?
I love hanging and drawing and quartering Every bit as well as war and slaughtering.
The Errors of a Wise Man make your Rule Rather than the Perfections of a Fool.
Where cheating is, there’s mischief there.
When thou seest an eagle, thou seest a portion of genius; lift up thy head!
The naked women’s body is a portion of eternity too great for the eye of man.
God forbid that Truth should be confined to Mathematical Demonstration!
Reason, or the ratio of all we have already known, is not the same that it shall be when we know more.
Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty !
Let every Christian, as much as in him lies, engage himself openly and publicly, before all the World, in some mental pursuit for the Building up of Jerusalem.
Embraces are comminglings from the head even to the feet, And not a pompous high priest entering by a secret place.
Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine. Under every grief and pine Runs a joy with silken twine.