A Mathematician Is Only Perfect Insofar As

Wood Burns Because It Has The Proper Stuff For That Purpose In It; And A Man Becomes Renowned Because He Has The Necessary Stuff In Him. Renown Is Not To Be Sought, And All Pursuit Of It Is Vain. A Person May, Indeed, By Skillful Conduct And Various Artificial Means, Make A Sort Of Name For Himself; But If The Inner Jewel Is Wanting, All Is Vanity, And Will Not Last A Day.

It Is With Art As With Love: How Can A Man Of The World,with All His Distractions, Keep The Inwardness Which An Artist Must Possess If He Hopes To Attain Perfection? That Inwardness Which The Spectator Must Share If He Is To Understand The Work As The Artist Wishes And Hopes... Believe Me, Talents Are Like Virtues; Either You Must Love Them For Their Own Sake Or Renounce Them Altogether. And They Are Only Recognized And Rewarded When We Have Practised Them In Secret, Like A Dangerous Mystery."

Every Author In Some Way Portrays Himself In His Works, Even If It Be Against His Will.

Error Is Acceptable As Long As We Are Young; But One Must Not Drag It Along Into Old Age.

Divide And Rule, A Sound Motto. Unite And Lead, A Better One.