Thought Is Invisible Nature.

Where Books Are Burnt, Men Finish Up Being Burnt Too.

First, I Thought, Almost Despairing, This Must Crush My Spirit Now; Yet I Bore It, And Am Bearing- Only Do Not Ask Me How.

From Every Englishman Emanates A Kind Of Gas, The Deadly Choke-damp Of Boredom.

Music Is A Strange Thing. I Would Almost Say It Is A Miracle.

Music Is A Strange Thing. I Would Almost Say It Is A Miracle. For It Stands Halfway Between Thought And Phenomenon, Between Spirit And Matter.