Anything That Endures Over Time Sacrifices Its

Time, Which Runs Through The World Like An Endless Tinsel Thread, Seemed To Pass Through The Centre Of This Room And Through The Centre Of These People And Suddenly To Pause And Petrify, Stiff, Still And Glittering... And The Objects In The Room Drew A Little Closer Together.

Strong Emotional Experiences Are For The Most Part Impersonal. Anyone Who Has Hated Another Person So Much That Only Chance Stands Between That Person And Death Knows This, As Does Whoever Has Fallen Into The Catastrophe Of A Deep Depression, Anyone Who Has Loved A Woman To The Dregs, Anyone Who Has Beaten Others Bloody Or Ever Come Up Behind Another Person With Muscles Trembling. "losing One's Head," Language Calls It. Emotional Experience Is, In Itself, Poor In Qualities; Qualities Are Brought To It By The Person Who Has The Experience.

The Thought Came To Me That All One Loves In Art Becomes Beautiful. Beauty Is Nothing But The Expression Of The Fact That Something Is Being Loved. Only Thus Could She Be Defined.

Anyone Who Still Wants To Experience Fairytales These Days Can’t Afford To Dither When It Comes To Using Their Brains.

It Is, All In All, A Historic Error To Believe That The Master Makes The School; The Students Make It!