Don Quixote Thought He Could Have Made

Simplicity In Character, In Manners, In Style; In All Things The Supreme Excellence Is Simplicity.

All The Means Of Action -- The Shapeless Masses -- The Materials -- Lie Everywhere About Us. What We Need Is The Celestial Fire To Change The Flint Into The Transparent Crystal, Bright And Clear. That Fire Is Genius.

Mine Is The Month Of Roses; Yes, And Mine The Month Of Marriages! All Pleasant Sights And Scents, The Fragrance Of The Blossoming Vine, The Foliage Of The Valleys And The Heights. Mine Are The Longest Days, The Loveliest Nights; The Mower's Scythe Makes Music To My Ear; I Am The Mother Of All Dear Delights; I Am The Fairest Daughter Of The Year.

As Turning The Logs Will Make A Dull Fire Burn, So Change Of Studies A Dull Brain.

Some Must Follow And Some Command, Through All Are Made Oclay.