The imperfect is our paradise.
The most beautiful thing in the world is, of course, the world itself.
Success as a result of industry is a peasant's ideal.
The reader became the book; and summer night Was like the conscious being of the book.
Intolerance respecting other people's religion is toleration itself in comparison with intolerance respecting other people's art.
The consolations of space are nameless things. It was after the neurosis of winter. It was In the genius of summer that they blew up The statue of Jove among the boomy clouds. It took all day to quieten the sky And then to refill its emptiness again.