Everyone Only Hears What He Understands.

In Happy Ignorance, I Sighed For A World I Did Not Know, Where I Hoped To Find Every Pleasure And Enjoyment Which My Heart Could Desire; And Now, On My Return From That Wide World... How Many Disappointed Hopes And Unsuccessful Plans Have I Brought Back!

We All Walk In Mysteries. We Are Surrounded By An Atmosphere About Which We Still Know Nothing At All.

It Is Quite Beyond Me How Anyone Can Believe God Speaks To Us In Books And Stories. If The World Does Not Directly Reveal To Us Our Relationship To It, If Our Hearts Fail To Tell Us What We Owe Ourselves And Others, We Shall Assuredly Not Learn It From Books, Which Are At Best Designed But To Give Names To Our Errors.

Everything Perfect In Its Kind Has To Transcend Its Own Kind, It Must Become Something Different And Incomparable. In Some Notes The Nightingale Is Still A Bird; Then It Rises Above Its Class And Seems To Suggest To Every Winged Creature What Singing Is Truly Like.

A Well-bred Carriage Is Difficult To Imitate; For In Strictness It Is Negative, And It Implies A Long-continued Previous Training.