Every Form Correctly Seen Is Beautiful

My Inheritance How Lordly Wide And Fair; Time Is My Fair Seed-field, To Time I'm Heir.

What Sort Of Faults May We Retain, Nay, Even Cherish In Ourselves? Those Faults Which Are Rather Pleasant Than Offensive To Others.

We Are The Slaves Of Objects Around Us, And Appear Little Or Important According As These Contract Or Give Us Room To Expand.

I Wait For The Morning Of My Tears

The Hero Draws Inspiration From The Virtue Of His Ancestors.