The World Must Become Romanticized,

Our Bodies Are Molded Rivers.

Genius In General Is Poetic. Where Genius Has Been Active It Has Been Poetically Active. The Truly Moral Person Is A Poet.

Play Is Experimenting With Chance.

The Mysterious Path Goes Inward. It Is In Us, And Not Anywhere Else, Where The Eternity Of The Worlds, The Past And The Future Are Found.

It Is Not Merely The Multiplicity Of Tints, The Gladness Of Tone, Or The Balminess Of The Air Which Delight In The Spring; It Is The Still Consecrated Spirit Of Hope, The Prophecy Of Happy Days Yet To Come; The Endless Variety Of Nature, With Presentiments Of Eternal Flowers Which Never Shall Fade, And Sympathy With The Blessedness Of The Ever-developing World.