Only Love Makes Fruitful The Soul.

There Are Moments When Nature Reveals The Passion Hidden Beneath The Careless Calm Of Her Ordinary Moods-violent Spring Flashing White On Almond-blossom Through The Purple Clouds; A Snowy, Moonlit Peak, With Its Single Star, Soaring Up To The Passionate Blue; Or Against The Flames Of Sunset, An Old Yew-tree Standing Dark Guardian Of Some Fiery Secret.

The Beginnings And Endings Of All Human Undertakings Are Untidy.

It Was Such A Spring Day As Breathes Into A Man An Ineffable Yearning, A Painful Sweetness, A Longing That Makes Him Stand Motionless, Looking At The Leaves Or Grass, And Fling Out His Arms To Embrace He Knows Not What.

Looking Back On The Long-stretched-out Body Of One's Work, It Is Interesting To Mark The Endless Duel Fought Within A Man Between The Emotional And Critical Sides Of His Nature, First One, Then The Other, Getting The Upper Hand, And Too Seldom Fusing Till The Result Has The Mellowness Of Full Achievement. One Can Even Tell The Nature Of One's Readers, By Their Preference For The Work Which Reveals More Of This Side Than Of That.

Public Opinion's Always In Advance Of The Law.