When You Lose Interest In Anything, You

The Mortal Race Is Far Too Weak Not To Grow Dizzy On Unwonted Brights.

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

What I Possess I Would Gladly Retain. Change Amuses The Mind, Yet Scarcely Profits.

Love Has The Tendency Of Pressing Together All The Lights - All The Rays Emitted From The Beloved Object By The Burning-glass Of Fantasy, - Into One Focus, And Making Of Them One Radiant Sun Without Any Spots.

My Peace Is Gone, My Heart Is Heavy. [ger., Meine Ruh Ist Hin, Mein Herz Ist Schwer.]