The Will To Incessant Creation Is Vulgar,

Ah, There Are So Many Things Betwixt Heaven And Earth Of Which Only The Poets Have Dreamed!

The Question Of Place And Climate Is Most Closely Related To The Question Of Nutrition. Nobody Is Free To Live Everywhere; And Whoever Has To Solve Great Problems That Challenge All His Strength Actually Has A Very Restricted Choice In This Matter. The Influence Of Climate On Our Metabolism, Its Retardation, Its Acceleration, Goes So Far That A Mistaken Choice Of Place And Climate Can Not Only Estrange A Man From His Task But Can Actually Keep It From Him: He Never Gets To See It.

How Lovely It Is That There Are Words And Sounds. Are Not Words And Sounds Rainbows And Illusive Bridges Between Things Which Are Eternally Apart?

Christianity Has Done Its Utmost To Close The Circle And Declared Even Doubt To Be Sin. One Is Supposed To Be Cast Into Belief Without Reason, By A Miracle, And From Then On To Swim In It As In The Brightest And Least Ambiguous Of Elements: Even A Glance Towards Land, Even The Thought That One Perhaps Exists For Something Else As Well As Swimming, Even The Slightest Impulse Of Our Amphibious Nature

We Take A Fancy To Something: And Scarcely Have We Thoroughly Taken A Fancy To It When That Tyrant In Us Calls Out: "give Me Thatin Sacrifice"--and We Give It.