Music Is So Elevated That It Is

If You Wish To Know The Mind Of A Man, Listen To His Words.

Beauty Is A Primeval Phenomenon, Which Itself Never Makes Its Appearance, But The Reflection Of Which Is Visible In A Thousand Different Utterances Of The Creative Mind, And Is As Various As Nature Herself.

No Skill Or Art Is Needed To Grow Old; The Trick Is To Endure It.

The Threshold Is The Place Of Expectation.

Nature! We Live In Her Midst And Know Her Not. She Is Incessantly Speaking To Us, But Betrays Not Her Secret. We Constantly Act Upon Her, And Yet Have No Power Over Her. Variant: Nature! We Are Surrounded And Embraced By Her: Powerless To Separate Ourselves From Her, And Powerless To Penetrate Beyond Her.