The Flowers Of Life Are But Illusions.

To Know Of Someone Here And There Whom We Accord With, Who Is Living On With Us, Even In Silence - - This Makes Our Earthly Ball A Peopled Garden.

Man, Be He Who He May, Experiences A Last Piece Of Good Fortune And A Last Day. [ger., Der Mensch Erfahrt, Er Sei Auch Wer Er Mag, Ein Letztes Gluck Und Einen Letzten Tag.]

To Be Sure, A Good Work Of Art Can And Will Have Moral Consequences, But To Demand Of The Artists Moral Intentions, Means Ruiningtheir Craft.

All Theory, Dear Friend, Is Gray, But The Golden Tree Of Life Springs Ever Green.

Certain Flaws Are Necessary For The Whole. It Would Seem Strange If Old Friends Lacked Certain Quirks.