Beauty Through My Senses Stole; I Yielded

Cultivate An Attitude Of Gratitude, Of Giving And Forgiving. Nothing Can Bring You Peace But Yourself.

We Know Truth When We See It, From Opinion, As We Know When We Are Awake That We Are Awake.

Poverty, Frost, Famine, Rain, Disease, Are The Beadles And Guardsmen That Hold Us To Common Sense.

So In Writing, There Is Always A Right Word, And Every Other Than That Is Wrong. There Is No Beauty In Words Except In Their Collocation. The Effect Of A Fanciful Word Misplaced, Is Like That Of A Horn Of Exquisite Polish Growing On A Human Head.

The Glance Is Natural Magic. The Mysterious Communication Established Across A House Between Two Entire Strangers, Moves All The Springs Of Wonder. The Communication By The Glance Is In The Greatest Part Not Subject To The Control Of The Will. It Is The Bodily Symbol Of Identity With Nature. We Look Into The Eyes To Know If This Other Form Is Another Self, And The Eyes Will Not Lie, But Make A Faithful Confession What Inhabitant Is There.