The Artist Has A Twofold Relation To

Battle Not With Monsters, For Then You Become One.

I Have Found Among My Papers A Sheet . . . In Which I Call Architecture Frozen Music.

Woe To Falsehood! It Affords No Relief To The Breast, Like Truth; It Gives Us No Comfort, Pains Him Who Forges It, And Like An Arrow Directed By A God Flies Back And Wounds The Archer.

It Seems To Never Occur To Fools That Merit And Good Fortune Are Closely United.

A Great Scholar Is Seldom A Great Philosopher.