Nature Tells Every Secret Once.

Every Stoic Was A Stoic; But In Christendom Where Is The Christian?

We Fly To Beauty As An Asylum From The Terrors Of Finite Nature.

The Artist Always Has The Masters In His Eyes.

The Stars Awaken A Certain Reverence, Because Though Always Present, They Are Inaccessible; But All Natural Objects Make A Kindred Impression, When The Mind Is Open To Their Influence. Nature Never Wears A Mean Appearance. Neither Does The Wisest Man Extort Her Secret, And Lose His Curiosity By Finding Out All Her Perfection. Nature Never Became A Toy To A Wise Spirit. The Flowers, The Animals, The Mountains, Reflected The Wisdom Of His Best Hour, As Much As They Had Delighted The Simplicity Of His Childhood.

Truth Is The Summit Of Being.