By Nature We Have No Defect That

It Is Not Always Needful For Truth To Take A Definite Shape; It Is Enough If It Hovers About Us Like A Spirit And Produces Harmony; If It Is Wafted Through The Air Like The Sound Of A Bell, Grave And Kindly.

There Are Only Two Lasting Bequests We Can Hope To Give Our Children. One Of These Is Roots, The Other, Wings.

I Hate Every Violent Overthrow, Because As Much Is Destroyed As Is Gained By It.

Our Passions Are True Phoenixes; As The Old Burn Out The New Straight Rise Up From The Ashes.

The Eternal Female Draws Us Onward.