German Diligence Is Actually Endurance.

What Raises Great Poetry Above All Else--it Is The Entire Person And Also The Entire World.

The Plot! The Plot! What Kind Of Plot Could A Poet Possibly Provide That Is Not Surpassed By The Thinking, Feeling Reader? Form Alone Is Divine.

They Are Miserly, The Princes Of Austria, You Need Not Grieve About It; They May Not Donate Anything, But They Allow Themselves Tobe Fleeced, The Good Lords.

I Know How Ingratitude Burns, How Falsehood Tortures, For I Have Been Deceived In Friendship And In Love; I Have Learned To Lose And To Resign Myself.

Never Expect Any Recognition Here--the System Prohibits It. The Cross Is Not Affixed To The Genius, No, The Genius Is Affixed To The Cross.