I was angry with my friend I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. — William Blake. English poet and artist (1757–1827) Anger, Friendship
If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thru' narrow chinks of his cavern.