The End Of Man Is Action.

Silence Is As Deep As Eternity, Speech A Shallow As Time.

Why Did Not Somebody Teach Me The Constellations, And Make Me At Home In The Starry Heavens, Which Are Always Overhead, And Which I Don't Half Know To This Day?

O Time! Time! How It Brings Forth And Devours! And The Roaring Flood Of Existence Rushes On Forever Similar, Forever Changing!

Music Is Well Said To Be The Speech Of Angels; In Fact, Nothing Among The Utterances Allowed To Man Is Felt To Be So Divine. It Brings Us Near To The Infinite.

Nine-tenths Of The Miseries And Vices Of Mankind Proceed From Idleness.