The Spirit From Which We Act Is

This World Could Not Exist If It Were Not So Simple. The Ground Has Been Tilled A Thousand Years, Yet Its Powers Remain Ever The Same; A Little Rain, A Little Sun, And Each Spring It Grows Green Again.

The World Of Reason Is To Be Regarded As A Great And Immortal Being, Who Ceaselessly Works Out What Is Necessary, And So Makes Himself Lord Also Over What Is Accidental.

Happy Is It, Indeed, For Me That My Heart Is Capable Of Feeling The Same Simple And Innocent Pleasure As The Peasant Whose Table Is Covered With Food Of His Own Rearing, And Who Not Only Enjoys His Meal, But Remembers With Delight The Happy Days And Sunny Mornings When He Planted It, The Soft Evenings When He Watered It, And The Pleasure He Experienced In Watching Its Daily Growth.

Beautiful Is Greater Than Good, For It Includes The Good.

And Here, Poor Fool, With All My Lore I Stand No Wiser Than Before.