Beauty Rests On Necessities.

To Me, However, The Question Of The Times Resolved Itself Into A Practical Question Of The Conduct Of Life. How Shall I Live? We Are Incompetent To Solve The Times. Our Geometry Cannot Span The Huge Orbits Of The Prevailing Ideas, Behold Their Return, And Reconcile Their Opposition. We Can Only Obey Our Own Polarity.

Some Men Love Only To Talk Where They Are Masters. They Like To Go To School-girls, Or To Boys, Or Into The Shops Where The Sauntering People Gladly Lend An Ear.

Thy Dangerous Glances Make Women Of Men; New-born, We Are Melting Into Nature Again.

Make Yourself Necessary To Somebody.

I Am The Lover Of Uncontained And Immortal Beauty. In The Wilderness, I Find Something More Dear And Connate Than In Streets Or Villages. In The Tranquil Landscape, And Especially In The Distant Line Of The Horizon, Man Beholds Somewhat As Beautiful As His Own Nature.