Death is the mother of Beauty hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires.
It is the unknown that excites the ardor of scholars, who, in the known alone, would shrivel up with boredom.
Death is the mother of Beauty hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires.
I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections, Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling, Or just after.
After the final no there comes a yes and on that yes the future of the world hangs.
We say God and the imagination are one... How high that highest candle lights the dark.
To regard the imagination as metaphysics is to think of it as part of life, and to think of it as part of life is to realize the extent of artifice. We live in the mind.
The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.