Utopias Are Often Just Premature Truths.

We Are Earth's Children, And Life Is The Same In Sap As In Blood; All That The Earth, Our Mother, Feels And Expresses To The Eye By Her Form And Aspect, In Melancholy Or In Splendor, Finds An Echo Within Us.

Let Us Savour The Swift Delights Of The Most Beautiful Of Our Days!

Sad Is His Lot, Who, Once At Least In His Life, Has Not Been A Poet.

Private Passions Tire And Exhaust Themselves, Public Ones Never.

Utopias Are Often Just Premature Truths.