It appears to me that almost any man may like the spider spin from his own inwards his own airy citadel.
Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them; thou has thy music too.
I will clamber through the clouds and exist.
What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?
O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song!
We must repeat the often repeated saying, that it is unworthy a religious man to view an irreligious one either with alarm or aversion, or with any other feeling than regret and hope and brotherly commiseration.