The first view of the Taj is from within this noble portal, framed by the somber shadow of the great arch which opens on to the garden. At the end of a long terrace, its gracious outline partly mirrored in the still water of a wide canal, a fairy vision of silver-white—like the spirit of purity—seems to rest so lightly, so tenderly, on the earth, as if in a moment it would soar into the sky. The beauty of the Taj, as in all great art, lies in its simplicity. (p. 79)

The Taj was meant to be feminine. The whole conception, and every line and detail of it, express the intention of the designers. It is Mumtaz Mahal herself, radiant in her youthful beauty, who still lingers on the banks of the shining Jumna, at early morn, in the glowing mid-day sun, or in the silver moonlight! (p. 22)

The Taj Mahal! It is Too pure to be the work of human hands, The angels must have brought it from high heaven, And a glass case should be placed over it, To shield it from the faintest breath of air!—(Zoffany, A Russian.) (p. 7)