To The Fool-king Belongs The World.

Man, Living, Feeling Man, Is The Easy Sport Of The Over-mastering Present.

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.

Only Through Beauty's Morning-gate, Dost Thou Penetrate The Land Of Knowledge.

Courage, Ne'er By Sorrow Broken! Aid Where Tears Of Virtue Flow; Faith To Keep Each Promise Spoken! Truth Alike To Friend And Foe!

A Sublime Soul Can Rise To All Kinds Of Greatness, But By An Effort; It Can Tear Itself From All Bondage, To All That Limits And Constrains It, But Only By Strength Of Will. Consequently The Sublime Soul Is Only Free By Broken Efforts.