Sleep Is No Mean Art.

What The Sense Feeleth, What The Spirit Discerneth, Hath Never Its End In Itself. But Sense And Spirit Would Fain Persuade Thee That They Are The End Of All Things: So Vain Are They.

The Great Man... Is Colder, Harder, Less Hesitating, And Without Fear Of 'opinion'; He Lacks The Virtues That Accompany Respect And 'respectability,' And Altogether Everything That Is The 'virtue Of The Herd.' If He Cannot Lead, He Goes Alone... He Knows He Is Incommunicable: He Finds It Tasteless To Be Familiar... When Not Speaking To Himself, He Wears A Mask. There Is A Solitude Within Him That Is Inaccessible To Praise Or Blame.

The Danger In Happiness - "now Everything Is Turning Out Right For Me; From Now On I'll Love Every Turn Of Fate - Who Wants To Be My Fate?

The Spiritual Activity Of Millennia Is Deposited In Language.

The Child Is Innocence And Forgetting, A New Beginning, A Game, A Wheel Rolling On Its Own, A Prime Movement, A Sacred Yes.