We Never Touch But At Points.

War Disorganizes, But It Is To Reorganize.

There Is Simply The Rose; It Is Perfect In Every Moment Of Its Existence.

Work And Thou Canst Escape The Reward; Whether The Work Be Fine Or Course, Planting Corn Or Writing Epics, So Only It Be Honest Work, Done To Thine Own Approbation, It Shall Earn A Reward To The Senses As Well As To The Thought.

Flowers Are The Earth Laughing.

The Brevity Of Human Life Gives A Melancholy To The Profession Of The Architect.