Nature is a temple, where the living. Columns sometimes breathe confusing speech; Man walks within these groves of symbols, each. Of which regards him as a kindred thing.
Charles BaudelaireAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet, Critic
- Nationality: french
- Born: April 9, 1821
- Died: August 31, 1867
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Swifts, on a fine morning in May, flying this way, that way, sailing around at a great hight, perfectly happily. Then, one leaps onto the back of another, grasps tightly and forgetting to fly they both sink down and down, in a great dying fall, fathom after fathom, until the female utters a loud, piercing cry of ecstasy.
Charlotte Bronte
The proudest heart that ever beat, Hath been subdued in me; The wildest will that ever rose--To scorn Thy cause or aid Thy foes--Is quelled, my God, by Thee! Thy will, and not my will, be done; Henceforth I'd be forever Thine; Confessing Thee, the Living Word, My Savior Christ, my God, my Lord, Thy Cross shall be my sign!
William Hone