Love! Hate! Is There No Third?

Why I Love The Ancients So Much? Aside From Everything Else, When I Read Them, The Entire Past Between Them And Me Unfolds At Thesame Time. The Hearts Of How Many Heroes And Poets May Have Been Set On Fire By Plutarch's Biographies Which Now Inspire Me With Their Own And With Borrowed Flames!

Trousers And The Reputation Of Not Being A Thief Are Similar In The Following Way: There Is No Particular Honor In Having Them Butonce They Are Lost, Everyone Thinks They Have The Right To Insult Us.

At Certain Times, Men Regard Poetry Merely As A Bright Flame, But To Women It Was, And Always Will Be, A Warm Fire.

Art Is Eternally Young, But The Poet Ages. If Only He Remained As Young As Art! If Only It Aged With Him!

The Manifestation Of Poetry In External Life Is Formal Perfection. True Sentiment Grows Within, And Art Must Represent Internal Phenomena Externally.