The Enthusiasm Of Old Men Is Singularly

The Only Refuge Left To Us Was The Poet's Ivory Tower, Which We Climbed, Ever Higher, To Isolate Ourselves From The Mob.

Every Flower Is A Soul Blossoming In Nature.

How Have I Been Able To Live So Long Outside Nature Without Identifying Myself With It? Everything Lives, Moves, Everything Corresponds; The Magnetic Rays, Emanating Either From Myself Or From Others, Cross The Limitless Chain Of Created Things Unimpeded; It Is A Transparent Network That Covers The World, And Its Slender Threads Communicate Themselves By Degrees To The Planets And Stars. Captive Now Upon Earth, I Commune With The Chorus Of The Stars Who Share In My Joys And Sorrows.

The Enthusiasm Of Old Men Is Singularly Like That Of Infancy.

Man, Do You Think Yours Is The Only Soul? Look Around You. Everything That You See Quivers With Being. Though Your Thoughts Are Free, One Thing You Do Not Think About: The Whole. Beasts Have A Mind; Respect It. Flowers Too- Look At One. Nature Brought Forth Each Petal. There Is A Mystery That Sleeps In Metal. Everything Feels, And Has Power Over You.