Truth Sits Upon The Lips Of Dying

Sad Patience, Too Near Neighbour To Despair.

Physician Of The Iron Age, Goethe Has Done His Pilgrimage. He Took The Suffering Human Race, He Read Each Wound, Each Weakness Clear -- And Struck His Finger On The Place, And Said -- Thou Ailest Here, And Here.

They... Who Await. No Gifts From Chance, Have Conquered Fate.

I Am A Liberal, Yet I Am A Liberal Tempered By Experience, Reflexion, And Renouncement, And I Am, Above All, A Believer In Culture.

One Thing Only Has Been Lent To Youth And Age In Common--discontent.