In A Work Of Art, Chaos Must

Friendship, Love, And Piety Ought To Be Handled With A Sort Of Mysterious Secrecy; They Ought To Be Spoken Of Only In The Rare Moments Of Perfect Confidence, To Be Mutually Understood In Silence. Many Things Are Too Delicate To Be Thought; Many More, To Be Spoken.

Learning Is Pleasurable But Doing Is The Height Of Enjoyment.

Philosophy Is Properly Home-sickness; The Wish To Be Everywhere At Home.

Before Abstraction Everything Is One, But One Like Chaos; After Abstraction Everything Is United Again, But This Union Is A Free Binding Of Autonomous, Self-determined Beings. Out Of A Mob A Society Has Developed, Chaos Has Been Transformed Into A Manifold World.

What Delights, What Pleasures Does Your Life Offer You That Outweigh The Raptures Of Death?