Our most glorious experiences are a kind of regret. Our regret is so sublime that we
may mistake it for triumph. It is the painful, sad surprise of our Genius to
remembering our past lives and contemplating what was possible.
I am amused to see from my window how feverishly man has divided and staked off
his domain. God must smile at his puny fences running her and there and everywhere
over the land.
