He Thought What A Fine Thing It

A Solitary, Unused To Speaking Of What He Sees And Feels, Has Mental Experiences Which Are At Once More Intense And Less Articulate Than Those Of A Gregarious Man.

Distance In A Straight Line Has No Mystery. The Mystery Is In The Sphere.

It Is Love, Not Reason, That Is Stronger Than Death.

And Then The Sly Arch-lover That He Was, He Said The Subtlest Thing Of All: That The Lover Was Nearer The Divine Than The Beloved; For The God Was In The One But Not In The Other - Perhaps The Tenderest, Most Mocking Thought That Ever Was Thought, And Source Of All The Guile And Secret Bliss The Lover Knows.

Solitude Produces Originality, Bold And Astonishing Beauty, Poetry. But Solitude Also Produces Perverseness, The Disproportianate, The Absurd And The Forbidden.