FastSaying
That blessed mood in which the burthen of the mystery, in which the heavy and the weary weight of all this unintelligible world is lightened.
William Wordsworth
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.
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The cattle are grazing,Their heads never raising;There are forty feeding like one!
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Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
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What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
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What we need is not the will to believe, but the wish to find out.
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