“Whoever knows it also knows that in love there is no More and no Less; but that …” — Max Muller

What is emitted from the divine, though it be only like the reflection from the fire, still has the divine reality in itself, and one might almost ask what were the fire without glow, the sun without light, or the Creator without the creature?

Of these years nought remains in memory but the sad feeling that we have advanced and only grown older.

The first pages of memory are like the old family Bible. The first leaves are wholly faded and somewhat soiled with handling. But, when we turn further, and come to the chapters where Adam and Eve were banished from Paradise, then, all begins to grow clear and legible.

Is it sin, which makes the worm a chrysalis, and the chrysalis a butterfly, and the butterfly dust?