Always To Distrust Is An

A Person Hears Only What They Understand.

We Are Pantheists When We Study Nature, Polytheists When We Write Poetry, Monotheists In Our Morality.

What People Call The Spirit Of The Times Is Mostly Their Own Spirit In Which The Times Mirror Themselves.

There Is No Surer Method Of Evading The World Than By Following Art, And No Surer Method Of Linking Oneself To It Than By Art.

The Bed Of Flowers Loosens Amain, The Beauteous Snowdrops Droop O'er The Plain. The Crocus Opens Its Glowing Bud, Like Emeralds Others, Others, Like Blood. With Saucy Gesture Primroses Flare, And Roguish Violets, Hidden With Care; And Whatsoever There Stirs And Strives, The Spring's Contented, If Works And Thrives.