The Powers Of The Soul Are Commensurate

Accept Your Genius And Say What You Think.

The Ancients Called Beauty The Flowering Of Virtue.

To The Attentive Eye, Each Moment Of The Year Has Its Own Beauty, And In The Same Fields, It Beholds, Every Hour, A Picture Which Was Never Seen Before, And Which Shall Never Be Seen Again.

The Experience Of Each New Age Requires A New Confession, And The World Seems Always Waiting For Its Poet

Souls Are Not Saved In Bundles.