Reality is not what it is. It consists of the many realities which it can be made into.
Metaphor creates a new reality from which the original appears to be unreal.
Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise!
At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.
God is in me or else is not at all.
How full of trifles everything is! It is only one's thoughts that fill a room with something more than furniture.