It Is Play And Only Play That

We Are Citizens Of An Age, As Well As Of A State; And If It Is Held To Be Unseemly, Or Even Inadmissible, For A Man To Cut Himself Off From The Customs And Manners Of The Circle In Which He Lives, Why Should It Be Less Of A Duty, In The Choice Of His Activity, To Submit His Decision To The Needs And The Taste Of His Century?

No Emperor Has The Power To Dictate To The Heart.

There Are Evil Spirits Who Suddenly Fix Their Abode In Man's Unguarded Breast, Causing Us To Commit Devilish Deeds, And Then, Hurrying Back To Their Native Hell, Leave Behind The Stings Of Remorse In The Poisoned Bosom.

A Deep Meaning Often Lies In Old Customs.

The Iron Chain And The Silken Cord Are Both Equally Bonds.