Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends! Hath he not always treasures, always friends, The good great man? Three treasures, love and light, And calm thoughts, regular as infants' breath; And three firm friends, more sure than day and night, Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1867). “The Friend: a series of essays ... First American, from the second London edition”, p.348
