All great things are done for their own sake.

A definite purpose, like blinders on a horse, inevitably narrows its possessor's point of view.

I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain - and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

He says the best way out is always through. / And I can agree to that, or in so far / As that I can see no way out but through

Fireflies in the Garden By Robert Frost 1874–1963 Here come real stars to fill the upper skies, And here on earth come emulating flies, That though they never equal stars in size, (And they were never really stars at heart) Achieve at times a very star-like start. Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.

The ear is the only true writer and the only true reader.

Nature is always hinting at us.