Accuracy Is Essential To Beauty.

The Sky Is The Daily Bread Of The Eyes.

Genius Always Finds Itself A Century Too Early.

In Nature Nothing Can Be Given. All Things Are Sold.

He Thought It Happier To Be Dead, To Die For Beauty, Than Live For Bread

Look Out Into The July Night, And See The Broad Belt Of Silver Flame Which Flashes Up The Half Of Heaven, Fresh And Delicate As The Bonfires Of The Meadow-flies. Yet The Powers Of Numbers Cannot Compute Its Enormous Age,—lasting As Space And Time,—embosomed In Time And Space.