To The Fool-king Belongs The World.

Never The Grave Gives Back What It Has Won!

Why Should I Deem Myself To Be A Chisel, When I Could Be The Artist?

Rarely Do We Arrive At The Summit Of Truth Without Running Into Extremes; We Have Frequently To Exhaust The Part Of Error, And Even Of Folly, Before We Work Our Way Up To The Noble Goal Of Tranquil Wisdom.

Egotism Erects Its Center In Itself; Love Places It Out Of Itself In The Axis Of The Universal Whole. Love Aims At Unity, Egotism At Solitude. Love Is The Citizen Ruler Of A Flourishing Republic, Egotism Is A Despot In A Devastated Creation. Egotism Sows For Gratitude, Love For The Ungrateful. Love Gives, Egotism Lends; And Love Does This Before The Throne Of Judicial Truth, Indifferent If For The Enjoyment Of The Following Moment, Or With The View To A Martyr's Crown--indifferent Whether The Reward Is In This Life Or In The Next.

O God, How Lovely Still Is Life!