Nature Is A Haunted House--but Art--is A

I Dwell In Possibility A Fairer House Than Prose More Numerous Of Windows Superior--for Doors Of Chambers As The Cedars Impregnable Of Eye And For An Everlasting Roof The Gambrels Of The Sky Of Visitors--the Fairest For Occupation--this The Spreading Wide My Narrow Hands To Gather Paradise

Earth Is A Merry Damsel, And Heaven A Knight So True

Behold This Little Bane- The Boon Of All Alive- As Common As It Is Unknown The Name Of It Is Love.

Till I Loved I Never Lived.

Twin Loaves Of Bread Have Just Been Born Into The World Under My Auspices. Fine Children, The Image Of Their Mother. And Here, My Dear Friend, Is The Glory.