BEAUTY is composed of many things and never stands alone. It is part of horizons, blue in the distance, great primeval silences, knowledge of all things of earth. It is so fragile it can be destroyed by a sound or a thought. It may be infinitesimally small or encompass the universe itself. It comes in a swift conception wherever nature has not been disturbed.
An act of love that fails is just as much a part of the divine life as an act of love that succeeds, for love is measured by its own fullness, not by its reception.