"Fear takes us in its grasp, but without torturing us, so it is more an intimation of the infinite. Love and melancholy call to us with lovely spirit voices; night comes on with a bright purple luster, and with inexpressible longing we follow those figures, which, waving us familiarly into their train, soar through the clouds in eternal dances of the spheres."

"Burning flashes of light shoot through the deep night of this realm,and we become aware of giant shadows that surge back and forth, driving us into narrower and narrower confines until they destroy us - but not the pain of that endless longing in which each joy that has climbed aloft in jubilant song sinks back and is swallowed up, and it is only in this pain, which consumes love, hope, and happiness but does not destroy them, which seeks to burst our breasts with a many-colored consonance of all the passions, that we live on, enchanted beholders of the supernatural!"