The Violets Prattle And Titter, And Gaze

The Eyes Of Spring, So Azure, Are Peeping From The Ground; They Are The Darling Violets, That I In Nosegays Bound.

In Vain Would I Seek To Discover Why Sad And Mournful Am I, My Thoughts Without Ceasing Brood Over A Tale Of The Time Gone By.

Every Age Thinks Its Battle The Most Important Of All.

Everywhere That A Great Soul Gives Utterance To Its Thoughts, There Also Is A Golgotha.

That Was Only The Beginning - Where One Burns Books, One Will Finally Also Burn People.