How astonishingly does the chance of leaving the world improve a sense of its natural beauties upon us. Like poor Falstaff, although I do not 'babble,' I think of green fields; I muse with the greatest affection on every flower I have know from my infancy - their shapes and colours are as new to me as if I had just created them with superhuman fancy.

Call the world if you please "the vale of soul-making." Then you will find out the use of the world.

I don't need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever

That which is creative must create itself.

But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the sky with silver glitterings!

Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.

I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.