In Books We Never Find Anything But

Distance In A Straight Line Has No Mystery. The Mystery Is In The Sphere.

There Were Profound Reasons For His Attachment To The Sea: He Loved It Because As A Hardworking Artist He Needed Rest, Needed To Escape From The Demanding Complexity Of Phenomena And Lie Hidden On The Bosom Of The Simple And Tremendous; Because Of A Forbidden Longing Deep Within Him That Ran Quite Contrary To His Life's Task And Was For That Very Reason Seductive, A Longing For The Unarticulated And Immeasurable, For Eternity, For Nothingness. To Rest In The Arms Of Perfection Is The Desire Of Any Man Intent Upon Creating Excellence; And Is Not Nothingness A Form Of Perfection?

A Man Lives Not Only His Personal Life, As An Individual, But Also, Consciously Or Unconsciously, The Life Of His Epoch And His Contemporaries.

What Good Would Politics Be, If It Didn’t Give Everyone The Opportunity To Make Moral Compromises.

He Thought What A Fine Thing It Was That People Made Music All Over The World, Even In The Strangest Settings – Probably Even On Polar Expeditions.