Life is not free from its forms.
The exceeding brightness of this early sun Makes me conceive how dark I have become.
Imagination is the will of things. . . .
Human nature is like water. It takes the shape of its container.
I measure myself Against a tall tree I find that I am much taller, For I reach right up to the sun With my eye; And I reach to the shore of the sea With my ear. Nevertheless, I dislike The way the ants crawl In and out of my shadow.
Reality is not what it is. It consists of the many realities which it can be made into.