The finest works of art are precious, among other reasons, because they make it possible for us to know, if only imperfectly and for a little while, what it actually feels like to think subtly and feel nobly. – Aldous Huxley
Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon Like a magician extended his golden wand oer the landscape; Twinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and forest Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and mingled together. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
