The Essence Of The Modern State Is

Poetry Is The Universal Art Of The Spirit Which Has Become Free In Itself And Which Is Not Tied Down For Its Realization To External Sensuous Material; Instead, It Launches Out Exclusively In The Inner Space And The Inner Time Of Ideas And Feelings.

History In General Is Therefore The Development Of Spirit In Time, As Nature Is The Development Of The Idea Is Space.

On The Stage On Which We Are Observing It, — Universal History — Spirit Displays Itself In Its Most Concrete Reality.

Reading The Morning Newspaper Is The Realist's Morning . One Orients One's Attitude Toward The Either By Or By What The World Is. The Former Gives As Much Security As The Latter, In That One Knows How One Stands.

If We Go On To Cast A Look At The Fate Of These World-historical Persons, Whose Vocation It Was To Be The Agents Of The World-spirit, We Shall Find It To Have Been No Happy One. They Attained No Calm Enjoyment; Their Whole Life Was Labour And Trouble; Their Whole Nature Was Nought Else But Their Master—passion. When Their Object Is Attained They Fall Off Like Empty Hulls From The Kernel. They Die Early, Like Alexander; They Are Murdered, Like Caesar.