The revilement of the infinite in the finite, which is the motive of all creation, is not seen in its perfection in the starry heavens, in the beauty of the flowers. It is in the soul of man.
The revilement of the infinite in the finite, which is the motive of all creation, is not seen in its perfection in the starry heavens, in the beauty of the flowers. It is in the soul of man.
The picture of a flower in a botanical book is information its mission ends with our knowledge. But in pure art it is a personal communication. And therefore until it finds its harmony in the depth of our personality it misses the mark. We can treat
By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.
The same stream of life that runs through the world runs through my veins night and day in rhythmic measure. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth into numberless waves of flowers.
When I bring you colored toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colors on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories