Where there is nothing, there is God.

Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet.

Ecstasy is from the contemplation of things vaster than the individual and imperfectly seen perhaps, by all those that still live.

Dream, dream, for this is also sooth.

Nor dread nor hope attend a dying animal; a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.

What shall I do with this absurdity- O heart, O troubled heart-this caricature, Decrepit age that has been tied to me As to a dog's tail? Never had I more Excited, passionate, fantastical Imagination, nor an ear and eye That more expected the impossible.

Nothing but stillness can remain when hearts are full Of their own sweetness, bodies of their loveliness.