To Create Something You Must Be Something.

Everyone Holds His Fortune In His Own Hands, Like A Sculptor The Raw Material He Will Fashion Into A Figure. But It's The Same With That Type Of Artistic Activity As With All Others: We Are Merely Born With The Capability To Do It. The Skill To Mold The Material Into What We Want Must Be Learned And Attentively Cultivated.

Translators Can Be Considered As Busy Matchmakers Who Praise As Extremely Desirable A Half-veiled Beauty. They Arouse An Irresistible Yearning For The Original.

He Who Knows No Foreign Languages Knows Nothing Of His Own.

Sweet Moonlight, Shining Full And Clear, Why Do You Light My Torture Here? How Often Have You Seen Me Toil, Burning Last Drops Of Midnight Oil. On Books And Papers As I Read, My Friend, Your Mournful Light You Shed. If Only I Could Flee This Den And Walk The Mountain-tops Again, Through Moonlit Meadows Make My Way, In Mountain Caves With Spirits Play - Released From Learning's Musty Cell, Your Healing Dew Would Make Me Well!

Know'st Thou Yesterday, Its Aim And Reason? Work'st Thou Will Today For Worthier Things? Then Calmly Wait The Morrow's Hidden Season, And Fear Thou Not, What Hap Soe'er It Brings