In Love, Jealousy Is The Great Exaggerator.

Not Without A Shudder May The Human Hand Reach Into The Mysterious Urn Of Destiny.

One Can Give Advice Comfortably From A Safe Port.

Whatever Is Not Forbidden Is Permitted.

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.

Individual Character Is In The Right That Is In Strict Consistence With Itself. Self-contradiction Is The Only Wrong.