The world is full of poetry. The air is living with its spirit; and the waves dance to the music of its melodies, and sparkle in its brightness.
It is not, nor cannot come to good. But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
伟大的传记应该像一幅肖像,既能捕捉光明也能捕捉阴影。
But it is the same with man as with the tree. The more he seeks to rise into the height and light, the more vigorously do his roots struggle earthword, downword, into the dark, the deep - into evil.