There is religion in everything around us, - a calm and holy religion in the unbreathing things of Nature, which man would do well to imitate.
Nature eschews regular lines; she does not shape her lines by a common model. Not one of Eve's numerous progeny in all respects resembles her who first culled the flowers of Eden. To the infinite variety and picturesque inequality of nature we owe the great charm of her uncloying beauty.
They who wander widest lift No more of beauties' jealous veils, Than they who from their doorways see The miracle of flowers and trees.
The still, sad music of humanity.
