By Putting Forward The Hands Of The

We Should Judge A Man Much More Surely From What He Dreams Than From What He Thinks.

If You Wish To Understand What Revolution Is, Call It Progress; And If You Wish To Understand What Progress Is, Call It Tomorrow.

To Commit The Least Possible Sin Is The Law For Man. To Live Without Sin Is The Dream Of An Angel. Everything Terrestrial Is Subject To Sin. Sin Is A Gravitation.

The Poetic Element Lying Hidden In Most Women Is The Source Of Their Magnetic Attraction.

The Eye Of A Man Should Be Still More Reverent Before The Rising Of A Young Maiden Than Before The Rising Of A Star. The Possibility Of Touch Should Increase Respect. The Down Of The Peach, The Dust Of The Plum, The Radiated Crystal Of Snow, The Butterfly’s Wing Powdered With Feathers, Are Gross Things Beside That Chastity That Does Not Even Know It Is Chaste. The Young Maiden Is Only The Glimmer Of A Dream And Is Not Yet Statue. Her Alcove Is Hidden In The Shadows Of The Ideal. The Indiscreet Touch Of The Eye Desecrates This Dim Penumbra. Here, To Gaze, Is To Profane.