Music Is A Strange Thing. I Would

I Am No Longer A Divine Biped. I Am No Longer The Freest German After Goethe, As Ruge Named Me In Healthier Days. I Am No Longer The Great Hero No. 2, Who Was Compared With The Grape-crowned Dionysius, Whilst My Colleague No. 1 Enjoyed The Title Of A Grand Ducal Weimarian Jupiter. I Am No Longer A Joyous, Somewhat Corpulent Hellenist, Laughing Cheerfully Down Upon The Melancholy Nazarenes. I Am Now A Poor Fatally-ill Jew, An Emaciated Picture Of Woe, An Unhappy Man.

The Same Fact That Boccaccio Offers In Support Of Religion Might Be Adduced In Behalf Of A Republic: "it Exists In Spite Of Its Ministers.

Reason Exercises Merely The Function Of Preserving Order, Is, So To Say, The Police In The Region Of Art. In Life It Is Mostly A Cold Arithmetician Summing Up Our Follies.

I Fell Asleep Reading A Dull Book And Dreamed I Kept On Reading, So I Awoke From Sheer Boredom.

Ordinarily He Was Insane, But He Had Lucid Moments When He Was Merely Stupid