Habit Is The Most Imperious Of All

Wind Is The Loving Wooer Of Waters; Wind Blends Together Billows All-foaming. Spirit Of Man, Thou Art Like Unto Water! Fortune Of Man, Thou Art Like Unto Wind!

The Thought Of Death Leaves Me In Perfect Peace, For I Have A Firm Conviction That Our Spirit Is A Being Of Indestructible Nature; It Works On From Eternity To Eternity, It Is Like The Sun, Which Though It Seems To Set To Our Mortal Eyes, Does Not Really Set, But Shines On Perpetually.

There Is No Patriotic Art And No Patriotic Science.

Human Life Runs Its Course In The Metamorphosis Between Receiving And Giving.

Care Is Taken That Trees Do Not Grow Into The Sky. [ger., Es Ist Dafur Gesorgt, Dass Die Baume Nicht In Den Himmel Wachsen.]