Only A Very Bad Theologian Would Confuse

Only The Bad Man Is Alone.

Does Not Vanity Itself Cease To Be Blamable, Is It Not Even Ennobled, When It Is Directed To Laudable Objects, When It Confines Itself To Prompting Us To Great And Generous Actions?

Poetry Must Have Something In It That Is Barbaric, Vast And Wild.

We Are All Instruments Endowed With Feeling And Memory. Our Senses Are So Many Strings That Are Struck By Surrounding Objects And That Also Frequently Strike Themselves.

The Infant Runs Toward It With Its Eyes Closed, The Adult Is Stationary, The Old Man Approaches It With His Back Turned.