Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
... the open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.
A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity.
I never can feel certain of any truth, but from a clear perception of its beauty.
Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine - Unweave a rainbow.