In the order of nature we may behold the ways of the Eternal.

What a severe yet master artist old Winter is... No longer the canvas and the pigments, but the marble and the chisel.

The gift of perfume to a flower is a special grace like genius or like beauty, and never becomes common or cheap.

If the October days were a cordial like the sub-acids of fruit, these are a tonic like the wine of iron. Drink deep or be careful how you taste this December vintage. The first sip may chill, but a full draught warms and invigorates.

When I look up into the starry heavens at night and reflect upon what it is I really see there, I am constrained to say, ´there is no god´.

Nature exists for man no more than she does for monkeys, and is as regardless of his life or pleasure or success as she is of the fleas. Her waves will drown him, her fire burn him, and her earth devour him, her storms and lightning smite him, as if he were only a dog.

To learn something new, take the path that you took yesterday.