Two Qualities Essential For The Artist: Moralityand

What A Fine Comedy This World Would Be If One Did Not Play A Part In It.

The World Is The House Of The Strong.

Does Not Vanity Itself Cease To Be Blamable, Is It Not Even Ennobled, When It Is Directed To Laudable Objects, When It Confines Itself To Prompting Us To Great And Generous Actions?

You Live As If You Were Destined To Live Forever, No Thought Of Your Frailty Ever Enters Your Head, Of How Much Time Has Already Gone By You Take No Heed. You Squander Time As If You Drew From A Full And Abundant Supply, So All The While That Day Which You Bestow On Some Person Or Thing Is Perhaps Your Last. You Have All The Fears Of Mortals And All The Desires Of Immortals… What Foolish Forgetfulness Of Mortality To Defer Wise Resolutions To The Fiftieth Or Sixtieth Year, And To Intend To Begin Life At A Point To Which Few Have Attained.

What Is This World? A Complex Whole, Subject To Endless Revolutions. All These Revolutions Show A Continual Tendency To Destruction; A Swift Succession Of Beings Who Follow One Another, Press Forward, And Vanish; A Fleeting Symmetry; The Order Of A Moment. I Reproached You Just Now With Estimating The Perfection Of Things By Your Own Capacity; And I Might Accuse You Here Of Measuring Its Duration By The Length Of Your Own Days.