Music Is Not A Science Any More

Fame! It Is The Flower Of A Day, That Dies When The Next Sun Rises.

Petty Laws Breed Great Crimes.

For What Is The Gift Of The Poet And The Artist Except To See The Sights Which Others Cannot See And To Hear The Sounds That Others Cannot Hear?

The Bread Of Bitterness Is The Food On Which Men Grow To Their Fullest Stature; The Waters Of Bitterness Are The Debatable Ford Through Which They Reach The Shores Of Wisdom; The Ashes Boldly Grasped And Eaten Without Faltering Are The Price That Must Be Paid For The Golden Fruit Of Knowledge.

If All Feeling For Grace And Beauty Were Not Extinguished In The Mass Of Mankind At The Actual Moment, Such A Method Of Locomotion As Cycling Could Never Have Found Acceptance; No Man Or Woman With The Slightest Aesthetic Sense Could Assume The Ludicrous Position Necessary For It.