There Is In Every Human Countenance Either

Nothing Can Permanently Please, Which Doesn't Contain In Itself The Reason Why It Is So, And Not Otherwise.

That Gracious Thing, Made Up Of Tears And Light.

The Language Of The Dream/night Is Contrary To That Of Waking/day. It Is A Language Of Images And Sensations, The Various Dialects Of Which Are Far Less Different From Each Other, Than The Various Day-languages Of Nations.

I Do Not Call The Sod Under My Feet My Country; But Language-religion-government-blood-identity In These Makes Men Of One Country.

The Most General Definition Of Beauty ... Multeity In Unity.