How Frightening It Is To Have Reached

I Would Love To Be Able To Write A Tragedy In My Imagination--it Would Turn Into A Masterpiece.

When The Theater Gates Open, A Mob Pours Inside, And It Is The Poet's Task To Turn It Into An Audience.

Why Does The Past Look So Enticing To Us? For The Same Reason Why From A Distance A Meadow With Flowers Looks Like A Flower Bed.

Why I Love The Ancients So Much? Aside From Everything Else, When I Read Them, The Entire Past Between Them And Me Unfolds At Thesame Time. The Hearts Of How Many Heroes And Poets May Have Been Set On Fire By Plutarch's Biographies Which Now Inspire Me With Their Own And With Borrowed Flames!

No Spoon Has Yet Destroyed A Mouth, But The Knife Of War Cuts Portions That Are Hard To Swallow. Perhaps The Big Mouths Of The Privileged Are Able To Cope With Them, But They Dull The Teeth Of The Little People And Ruin Their Stomachs.