Where There Is Much Freedom There Is

Even Now, Nature Is The Only Flame, On Which The Poetic Spirit Feeds; From It Alone It Draws All Its Power, To It Alone It Speaks Even In The Artificial, In The Man Engaged In Culture.

Fear Of Death Is Worse Than Dying.

The Hat Is The Pride Of Man; For He Who Cannot Keep His Hat On Before Kings And Emperors Is No Free Man.

We, We Live! Ours Are The Hours, And The Living Have Their Claims.

I Speak With The Eternal Through The Instrument Of Nature, Through The World's History: I Read The Soul Of The Artist In His Apollo.