Prose Talks And Poetry Sings.

What A Pathetic Creature Is Man! His Senses Are Awakened By The Hope For The Very Thing Whose Consummation Puts Him To Sleep.

As Youth Lives In The Future, So The Adult Lives In The Past: No One Rightly Knows How To Live In The Present.

The Way In Which Modern German Poetry Follows Theories Reminds Me Of Pupils Who, Scolded By Their Teacher For Their Insubordination, Justify Themselves By Saying That They Invented New Rules Of Propriety According To Which They Are Quite Well- Behaved.

If Someone Took The Finest Marble And Knew How To Shape It Artfully: Prometheus' Material Was Lowly Clay, But His Statues Walked.

The Likeness Of The World? A Shadow! And World's Glory? A Dream!