The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone. ~George Elliot
Who if I cried out, would hear me among the angel's hierarchies?
and even if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart:
I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror which we are still just able to endure.
and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.”
