Everywhere, We Learn Only From Those Whom

At Bottom, No Real Object Is Unpoetical, If The Poet Knows How To Use It Properly.

Let's Plunge Ourselves Into The Roar Of Time, The Whirl Of Accident; May Pain And Pleasure, Success And Failure, Shift As They Will -- It's Only Action That Can Make A Man.

Mozart Is A Human Incarnation Of The Divine Force Of Creation.

Yes, My Love, Who Soever Lives, Loses, . . . But He Also Wins. [ger., Ja, Meine Liebe, Wer Lebt, Verliebt . . . Aber Er Gewinnt Auch.]

It Is Not Always Needful For Truth To Take A Definite Shape; It Is Enough If It Hovers About Us Like A Spirit And Produces Harmony; If It Is Wafted Through The Air Like The Sound Of A Bell, Grave And Kindly.