Facts Are Not Truths; They Are Not

[coleridge] Selected An Instance Of What Was Called The Sublime, In Darwin, Who Imagined The Creation Of The Universe To Have Taken Place In A Moment, By The Explosion Of A Mass Of Matter In The Womb, Or Centre Of Space. In One And The Same Instant Of Time, Suns And Planets Shot Into Systems In Every Direction, And Filled And Spangled The Illimitable Void! He Asserted This To Be An Intolerable Degradation -referring, As It Were, All The Beauty And Harmony Of Nature To Something Like The Bursting Of A Barrel Of Gunpowder! That Spit Its Combustible Materials Into A Pock-freckled Creation!

Love Is The Admiration And Cherishing Of The Amiable Qualities Of The Beloved Person, Upon The Condition Of Yourself Being The Object Of Their Action.

A Poet Ought Not To Pick Nature's Pocket. Let Him Borrow, And So Borrow As To Repay By The Very Act Of Borrowing. Examine Nature Accurately, But Write From Recollection, And Trust More To The Imagination Than The Memory.

The Whole Faculties Of Man Must Be Exerted In Order To Call Forth Noble Energies; And He Who Is Not Earnestly Sincere Lives In But Half His Being, Self-mutilated, Self-paralyzed.

Bells, The Poor Man's Only Music.