Where There Is Money There Is No

Art Can Never Exist Without Naked Beauty Displayed.

O Thou With Dewy Locks, Who Lookest Down Thro' The Clear Windows Of The Morning, Turn Thine Angel Eyes Upon Our Western Isle, Which In Full Choir Hails Thy Approach, O Spring! The Hills Tell Each Other, And The Listening Valleys Hear; All Our Longing Eyes Are Turned Up To Thy Bright Pavilions: Issue Forth, And Let Thy Holy Feet Visit Our Clime. Come O'er The Eastern Hills, And Let Our Winds Kiss Thy Perfumed Garments; Let Us Taste Thy Morn And Evening Breath; Scatter Thy Pearls Upon Our Love-sick Land That Mourns For Thee.

It Is Not Because Angels Are Holier Than Men Or Devils That Makes Them Angels, But Because They Do Not Expect Holiness From One Another, But From God Only.

I Have Conversed With The Spiritual Sun. I Saw Him On Primrose Hill

Ages Are All Equal. / But Genius Is Always Above The Age.