It Seems To Be A Rule Of

Looking At God Instantly Reduces Our Disposition To Dissent From Our Brother.

A Cynic Can Chill And Dishearten With A Single Word.

Beauty Without Expression Is Boring.

The Wonder Is That We Can See These Trees And Not Wonder More.

I See The Spectacle Of Morning From The Hilltop Over Against My House, From Daybreak To Sunrise, With Emotions Which An Angel Might Share. The Long Slender Bars Of Cloud Float Like Fishes In The Sea Of Crimson Light. From The Earth, As A Shore, I Look Out Into That Silent Sea. I Seem To Partake Its Rapid Transformations; The Active Enchantment Reaches My Dust, And I Dilate And Conspire With The Morning Wind.