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Mathematics is an independent world created out of pure intelligence.

William Wordsworth

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Creation Independent Intelligence Mathematics World

Bagwalas

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Forget Forgetfulness Glory Naked Ourselves
A tale in everything.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

One Liner Story
The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Ocean One Liner
Come grow old with me. The best is yet to be.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Best Growth Myself Old Relationship
And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Death Eyes Life Myself See Travel
The memory of the just survives in Heaven.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Heaven Memories Survive
O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Joy Live Nature Ourselves Remember
Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Darkness Nature Suffering
Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Glory Greatness Hard
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Feeling Poetry Powerful
A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Comfortable Light Perfection Spirit Woman
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretch’d in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Dance End Shine Stars
Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Dance Flower Heart Myself Nature
Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge – it is as immortal as the heart of man.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Heart Immortal Knowledge Man Poetry
My heart leaps up when I behold
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Heart Myself
Often in my way have I stood still, though but a casual passenger, so much I felt the awfulness of life.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Feeling Life Myself

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