The world of imagination is the world of eternity.
I see through my eyes, not with them.
Everything is beautiful in its own way. Exuberance is beauty.
My mother groaned, my father wept, into the dangerous world I leapt.
Nature in darkness groans and men are bound to sullen contemplation in the night: restless they turn on beds of sorrow; in their inmost brain feeling the crushing wheels, they rise, they write the bitter words of stern philosophy and knead the bread of knowledge with tears and groans.
Silent as despairing love, and strong as jealousy.