It Is Certain My Belief Gains Quite

If The World Is A Precipitation Of Human Nature, So To Speak, Then The Divine World Is A Sublimation Of The Same. Both Occur In One Act. No Precipitation Without Sublimation. What Goes Lost There In Agility, Is Won Here.

Nature Is An Aeolian Harp, A Musical Instrument Whose Tones Are The Re-echo Of Higher Strings Within Us.

Fate And Temperament Are The Names Of A Concept.

Our Bodies Are Molded Rivers.

Everything At A Distance Turns Into Poetry; Distant Mountains, Distant People, Distant Events; All Become Romantic.