When Half-gods Go The Gods Arrive.

One More Royal Trait Properly Belongs To The Poet. I Mean His Cheerfulness, Without Which No Man Can Be A Poet,--for Beauty Is His Aim. He Loves Virtue, Not For Its Obligation, But For Its Grace; He Delights In The World, In Man, In Woman, For The Lovely Light That Sparkles From Them. Beauty, The Spirit Of Joy And Hilarity, He Sheds Over The Universe.

The Last Change In Our Point Of View Gives The Whole World A Pictorial Air.

The Greatest Discoveries Are Those That Shed Light Unto Ourselves.

If Eyes Were Made For Seeing, Then Beauty Is Its Own Excuse For Being.

But In Our Experience, Man Is Cheap And Friendship Wants Its Deep Sense. We Affect To Dwell With Our Friends In Their Absence, But We Do Not; When Deed, Word, Or Letter Comes Not, They Let Us Go.