Thought Is Invisible Nature.

Das War Ein Vorspeil Nur; That Was Only A Prelude; Dort Wo Man Buecher Verbrennt, Where One Burns Books, Vebrennt Man Auch Am Ende One Will Also Burn People Menchen. Eventually.

The Swan In The Pool Is Singing, And Up And Down Doth He Steer, And, Singing Gently Ever, Dips Under The Water Clear.

He Who Fears To Venture As Far As His Heart Urges And His Reason Permits, Is A Coward; He Who Ventures Further Than He Intended To Go, Is A Slave.

There Is No Sixth Commandment In Art. The Poet Is Entitled To Lay His Hands On Whatever Material He Finds Necessary For His Work.

No Compass Has Ever Been Invented For The High Seas Of Matrimony.