Nothing that was worthy in the past departs; no truth or goodness realized by man ever dies, or can die.
Secrecy is the element of all goodness; even virtue, even beauty is mysterious.
The true past departs not, no truth or goodness realized by man ever dies, or can die; but all is still here, and, recognized or not, lives and works through endless change.
How indestructibly the good grows, and propagates itself, even among the weedy entanglements of evil.
Taste, if it mean anything but a paltry connoisseurship, must mean a general susceptibility to truth and nobleness, a sense to discern, and a heart to love and reverence all beauty, order, goodness, wheresoever, or in whatsoever forms and accompaniments they are to be seen. This surely implies, as its chief condition, not any given external rank or situation, but a finely-gifted mind, purified into harmony with itself, into keenness and justness of vision; above all, kindled into love and generous admiration.
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