The Artist Who Is Not Also A

My Poor Head Is In Such A Whirl, My Mind Is All In Bits.

I Nothing Had, And Yet Enough For Youth--joy In Illusion, Ardent Thirst For Truth. Give Unrestrained, The Old Emotion, The Bliss That Touched The Verge Of Pain, The Strength Of Hate, Love's Deep Devotion,--o, Give Me Back My Youth Again!

The Moment One Definitely Commits Oneself, Then Providence Moves Too. Whatever You Think You Can Do, Or Believe You Can Do, Begin It. Action Has Magic, Power And Grace.

A Mathematician Is Only Perfect Insofar As He Is A Perfect Man, Sensitive To The Beauty Of Truth.

What Is The Destiny Of Man, But To Fill Up The Measure Of His Sufferings, And To Drink His Allotted Cup Of Bitterness?