Music Is So Elevated That It Is

Whoso Shrinks From Ideas Ends By Having Nothing But Sensations.

Give Shape, Artist! Don't Talk! Your Poem Be But A Breath.

I Hate All Explanations; They Who Make Them Deceive Either Themselves Or The Other Party,-generally Both.

It Is Easier To Perceive Error Than To Find Truth, For The Former Lies On The Surface And Is Easily Seen, While The Latter Lies In The Depth, Where Few Are Willing To Search For It.

It Is The Strange Fate Of Man, That Even In The Greatest Of Evils The Fear Of The Worst Continues To Haunt Him.