I Often Feel, And Ever More Deeply

Friendship, Love, And Piety Ought To Be Handled With A Sort Of Mysterious Secrecy; They Ought To Be Spoken Of Only In The Rare Moments Of Perfect Confidence, To Be Mutually Understood In Silence. Many Things Are Too Delicate To Be Thought; Many More, To Be Spoken.

The Poem Of The Understanding Is Philosophy.

We Touch Heaven When We Lay Our Hand On A Human Body!

Perceptibility Is A Kind Of Attentiveness.

In A Work Of Art, Chaos Must Shimmer Through The Veil Of Order.