It Is Difficult To Discriminate The Voice

O The Eye's Light Is A Noble Gift Of Heaven! All Beings Live From Light, Each Fair Created Thing; The Very Plants Turn With A Joyful Transport To The Light.

Dear Is My Friend--yet From My Foe, As From My Friend, Comes Good: My Friend Shows What I Can Do, And My Foe What I Should.

As Inclination Changes, Thus Ebbs And Flows The Unstable Tide Of Public Judgment.

Futurity Is Impregnable To Mortal Ken: No Prayer Pierces Through Heaven's Adamantine Walls. Whether The Birds Fly Right Or Left, Whatever Be The Aspect Of The Stars, The Book Of Nature Is A Maze, Dreams Are A Lie, And Every Sign A Falsehood.

A Noble Soul Spreads Even Over A Face In Which The Architectonic Beauty Is Wanting An Irresistible Grace, And A Often Even Triumphs Over The Natural Disfavor.