What Tarquin the Proud said in his garden with the poppy blooms was understood by the son but not by the messenger.

Our reason arises, at the very least, from this twofold lesson of sensuous revelations and human testimonies.

Poetry is the mother-tongue of the human race.

Everything the human being heard from the beginning, saw with its eyes, looked upon and touched with its hands was a living word; for God was the word.

The thirst for vengeance was the beautiful nature which Homer imitated

The farther reason looks the greater is the haze in which it loses itself.

Every phenomenon of nature was a word, - the sign, symbol and pledge of a new, mysterious, inexpressible but all the more intimate union, participation and community of divine energies and ideas.