Part i

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I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive,--what time, what circuit first, I ask not; but unless God send his hail Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time.

_Paracelsus. Part i ._

Are there not, dear Michal, Two points in the adventure of the diver,-- One, when a beggar he prepares to plunge; One, when a prince he rises with his pearl? Festus, I plunge.

_Paracelsus. Part i ._

God is the perfect poet, Who in his person acts his own creations.

_Paracelsus. Part ii ._

The sad rhyme of the men who proudly clung To their first fault, and withered in their pride.

_Paracelsus. Part iv ._

I give the fight up: let there be an end, A privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.

_Paracelsus. Part v ._

Progress is The law of life: man is not Man as yet.

_Paracelsus.