Conscience Is The Virtue Of The Observers

How Fair Doth Nature Appear Again! How Bright The Sunbeams! How Smiles The Plain! The Flow'rs Are Bursting From Ev'ry Bough, And Thousand Voices Each Bush Yields Now. And Joy And Gladness Fill Ev'ry Breast! Oh Earth!-oh Sunlight! Oh Rapture Blest! Oh Love! Oh Loved One!

Originality Provokes Originality.

Every Man Bears Something Within Him That, If It Were Publicly Announced, Would Excite Feelings Of Aversion.

[nature's] Crown Is Love. Only Through Love Can We Come Near Her. She Puts Gulfs Between All Things, And All Things Strive To Be Interfused. She Isolates Everything, That She May Draw Everything Together. With A Few Draughts From The Cup Of Love She Repays For A Life Full Of Trouble.

The Mediator Of The Inexpressible Is The Work Of Art.