Life Is A Series Of

To Us Also, Through Every Star, Through Every Blade Of Grass, Is Not God Made Visible If We Will Open Our Minds And Our Eyes.

All Destruction, By Violent Revolution Or However It Be, Is But New Creation On A Wider Scale.

Happy Season Of Childhood! Kind Nature, That Art To All A Bountiful Mother; That Visitest The Poor Man's Hut With Auroral Radiance; And For Thy Nursling Hast Provided A Soft Swathing Of Love And Infinite Hope Wherein He Waxes And Slumbers, Danced Round By Sweetest Dreams!

Narrative Is Linear, But Action Has Breadth And Depth As Well As Height And Is Solid.

Science Must Have Originated In The Feeling That Something Was Wrong.