Sleep lingers all our lifetime about our eyes, as night hovers all day in the boughs of the fir-tree

Time and space are but the physiological colors which the eye maketh, but the soul is light; where it is, is day; where it was, is night.

A painter told me that nobody could draw a tree without in some sort becoming a tree; or draw a child by studying the outlines of its form merely, but by watching for a time his motions and plays, the painter enters into his nature and can then draw

When I first open my eyes upon the morning meadows and look out upon the beautiful world, I thank God I am alive

The man who has seen the rising moon break out of the clouds at midnight has been present like an archangel at the creation of light and of the world

Who loses a day loses life