They Say Love Is Blindness Of Heart;

A One-eyed Man Is Much More Incomplete Than A Blind Man, For He Knows What It Is That's Lacking.

Great Blunders Are Often Made, Like Large Ropes, Of A Multitude Of Fibers. Take The Cable Thread By Thread, Take Separately All The Little Determining Motives, You Break Them One After Another, And You Say: That Is All! Wind Them And Twist Them Together, They Become An Enormity.

I Represent A Party Which Does Not Yet Exist: The Party Revolution-civilization. This Party Will Make The Twentieth Century. There Will Issue From It First The United States Of Europe, Then The United States Of The World.

We Are Given Up To Those Gods, Those Monsters, Those Giants, — Our Thoughts.

The Eye Of A Man Should Be Still More Reverent Before The Rising Of A Young Maiden Than Before The Rising Of A Star. The Possibility Of Touch Should Increase Respect. The Down Of The Peach, The Dust Of The Plum, The Radiated Crystal Of Snow, The Butterfly’s Wing Powdered With Feathers, Are Gross Things Beside That Chastity That Does Not Even Know It Is Chaste. The Young Maiden Is Only The Glimmer Of A Dream And Is Not Yet Statue. Her Alcove Is Hidden In The Shadows Of The Ideal. The Indiscreet Touch Of The Eye Desecrates This Dim Penumbra. Here, To Gaze, Is To Profane.