Art Is The Daughter Of Freedom.

A Deep Meaning Often Lies In Old Customs.

But How Is The Artist To Protect Himself Against The Corruption Of The Age Which Besets Him On All Sides?

Culture, Far From Giving Us Freedom, Only Develops, As It Advances, New Necessities; The Fetters Of The Physical Close More Tightly Around Us, So That The Fear Of Loss Quenches Even The Ardent Impulse Toward Improvement, And The Maxims Of Passive Obedience Are Held To Be The Highest Wisdom Of Life.

There Is More To Life Than Just Existing And Having A Pleasant Time.

When The Measured Dance Of The Hours Brings Back The Happy Smile Of Spring, The Buried Dead Is Born Again In The Life-glance Of The Sun. The Germs Which Perished To The Eye Within The Cold Breast Of The Earth Spring Up With Joy In The Bright Realm Of Day.