If One Has No Heart, One Cannot

Sleep Is Lovely, Death Is Better Still, Not To Have Been Born Is Of Course The Miracle.

Oh What Lies There Are In Kisses! And Their Guile So Well Prepared! Sweet The Snaring Is; But This Is Sweeter Still, To Be Ensnared.

The Men Of Action Are, After All, Only The Unconscious Instruments Of The Men Of Thought.

Nothing Is More Futile Than Theorizing About Music. No Doubt There Are Laws, Mathematically Strict Laws, But These Laws Are Not Music; They Are Only Its Conditions? The Essence Of Music Is Revelation.

Graves They Say Are Warm'd By Glory; Foolish Words And Empty Story.