Does Nature supplement what man advanced? Or does she complete what he began?

I am in the mood to dissolve in the sky.

The beauty of the world, which is so soon to perish, has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.

You cannot find peace by avoiding life.

It was the intimacy, a sort of spiritual suppleness, when mind prints upon mind indelibly.

Listening (had there been any one to listen) from the upper rooms of the empty house only gigantic chaos streaked with lightning could have been heard tumbling and tossing, as the winds and waves disported themselves like the amorphous bulks of leviathans whose brows are pierced by no light of reason, and mounted one on top of another, and lunged and plunged in the darkness or the daylight (for night and day, month and year ran shapelessly together) in idiot games, until it seemed as if the universe were battling and tumbling, in brute confusion and wanton lust aimlessly by itself.

Truth had run through my fingers. Every drop had escaped.