It is not because Angels are Holier than Men or Devils that makes them — William Blake

"My Brother starvd between two Walls, His Childrens Cry my Soul appalls;"

"The true method of knowledge is experiment."

"How sweet I roamed from field to field, And tasted all the summers pride, Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide!"

"He loves to sit and hear me sing, Then, laughing, sports and plays with me; Then stretches out my golden wing, And mocks my loss of liberty."

"The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom."

"I die, I die!" the Mother said, "My children die for lack of Bread."