Nature Is, After All, The Only Book

Nature! We Are Enveloped And Embraced By Her, Incapable Of Emerging From Her And Incapable Of Entering Her More Deeply. Unbidden And Unwarned, She Receives Us Into The Circuits Of Her Dance, Drifting Onward With Us Herself, Until We Grow Tired And Drop From Her Arms.

Fortunately, We Can Take In Only So Much Misfortune; What Exceeds That Limit Either Destroys Us Or Leaves Us Indifferent.

Literature Is A Fragment Of A Fragment. Of All That Ever Happened, Or Has Been Said, But A Fraction Has Been Written; And Of This But Little Is Extant.

The Greater Part Of All The Mischief In The World Arises From The Fact That Men Do Not Sufficiently Understand Their Own Aims.

Whatever You Can Do Or Dream, Begin It.