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Our own thought sounds new and larger from his mouth.Yet the systole and diastole of the heart are not without their analogy in the ebb and flow of love.He has heard the first, the last and best he will ever hear from us. Vulgarity, ignorance, misapprehension are old acquaintances. Now, when he comes, he may get the order, the dress, and the dinner,--but the throbbing of the heart, and the communications of the soul, no more.
A ruddy drop of manly blood The surging sea outweighs, The world uncertain comes and goes, The lover rooted stays.
I fancied he was fled, And, after many a year, Glowed unexhausted kindliness Like daily sunrise there.
What so delicious as a just and firm encounter of two, in a thought, in a feeling?
How beautiful, on their approach to this beating heart, the steps and forms of the gifted and the true!
I chide society, I embrace solitude, and yet I am not so ungrateful as not to see the wise, the lovely, and the noble-minded, as from time to time they pass my gate.
Who hears me, who understands me, becomes mine,--a possession for all time. By oldest right, by the divine affinity of virtue with itself, I find them, or rather not I, but the Deity in me and in them derides and cancels the thick walls of individual character, relation, age, sex, circumstance, at which he usually connives, and now makes many one.
A new person is to me a great event, and hinders me from sleep.
I have often had fine fancies about persons which have given me delicious hours; but the joy ends in the day; it yields no fruit.
Thought is not born of it; my action is very little modified.
I must feel pride in my friend's accomplishments as if they were mine,--and a property in his virtues.