I have seldom known a man cunning with his brush who was not simple with his tongue; or, indeed, any skill in particular that was not allied to gener… - Thomas Hardy

A sort of halo, an occidental glow, came over life then. Troubles and other realities took on themselves a metaphysical impalpability, sinking to mere mental phenomena for serene contemplation, and no longer stood as pressing concretions which chafed body and soul.

The physiognomy of a deserted highway expresses solitude to a degree that is not reached by mere dales or downs, and bespeaks a tomb-like stillness more emphatic than that of glades and pools. The contrast of what is with what might be, probably accounts for this.

So that, whatever the stars were made for, they were not made to please our eyes. It is just the same in everything; nothing is made for man.