Sorrows Must Die With The Joys They

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.

Let Him That Sows The Serpent's Teeth Not Hope To Reap A Joyous Harvest. Every Crime Has, In The Moment Of Its Perpetration, Its Own Avenging Angel,--dark Misgivings At The Inmost Heart.

If Thou Art Something Bring Thy Soul And Interchange With Mine. - Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller.

Each State Of The Human Mind Has Some Parable In The Physical Creation By Which It Is Shadowed Forth; Nor Is It Only Artists And Poets, But Even The Most Abstract Thinkers That Have Drawn From This Source. Lively Activity We Name Fire; Time Is A Stream That Rolls On, Sweeping All Before It; Eternity Is A Circle; A Mystery Is Hid In Midnight Gloom, And Truth Dwells In The Sun. Nay, I Begin To Believe That Even The Future Destiny Of The Human Race Is Prefigured In The Dark Oracular Utterances Of Bodily Creation.

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