The ultimate mystery is one's own self.

The ultimate mystery is one's own self.

The choirs left the main tune and soared two octaves past heaven in a descant to rattle the bones and read more

The choirs left the main tune and soared two octaves past heaven in a descant to rattle the bones and surge the heart.

The only words that ever satisfied me as describing Nature are the terms used in fairy books, charm, spell, enchantment. read more

The only words that ever satisfied me as describing Nature are the terms used in fairy books, charm, spell, enchantment. They express the arbitrariness of the fact and its mystery.

Yet half the beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh, as he sits by the river,
read more

Yet half the beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh, as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man.
The true gods sigh for the cost and the pain--
For the reed that grows never more again
As a reed with the reeds of the river.

It is hard to say whether the doctors of law or divinity have made the greater advances in the lucrative read more

It is hard to say whether the doctors of law or divinity have made the greater advances in the lucrative business of mystery.

And sure there is music even in the beauty, and the silent note
which Cupid strikes, far sweeter than read more

And sure there is music even in the beauty, and the silent note
which Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the sound of an instrument;
for there is music wherever there is harmony, order, or
proportion; and thus far we may maintain the music of the
spheres.

"Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast,"
And therefore proper at a sheriff's feast.

"Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast,"
And therefore proper at a sheriff's feast.

The workings of the human heart are the profoundest mystery of the universe. One moment they make us despair of read more

The workings of the human heart are the profoundest mystery of the universe. One moment they make us despair of our kind, and the next we see in them the reflection of the divine image.

Her voice, the music of the spheres,
So loud, it deafens mortals' ears;
As wise philosophers have read more

Her voice, the music of the spheres,
So loud, it deafens mortals' ears;
As wise philosophers have thought,
And that's the cause we hear it not.