No Emperor Has The Power To Dictate

A Merely Fallen Enemy May Rise Again, But The Reconciled One Is Truly Vanquished.

Everlastingly Chained To A Single Little Fragment Of The Whole, Man Himself Develops Into Nothing But A Fragment; Everlastingly In His Ear The Monotonous Sound Of The Wheel That He Turns, He Never Develops The Harmony Of His Being, And Instead Of Putting The Stamp Of Humanity Upon His Own Nature, He Becomes Nothing More Than The Imprint Of His Occupation Or Of His Specialized Knowledge.

Ever Building, Building To The Clouds, Still Building Higher, And Never Reflecting That The Poor Narrow Basis Cannot Sustain The Giddy Tottering Column.

Man Only Plays When In The Full Meaning Of The Word He Is A Man, And He Is Only Completely A Man When He Plays.

The Hat Is The Pride Of Man; For He Who Cannot Keep His Hat On Before Kings And Emperors Is No Free Man.