O God, How Lovely Still Is Life!

You Worthy Critics, Or Whatever You May Call Yourselves, Are Ashamed Or Afraid Of The Momentary And Passing Madness Which Is Found In All Real Creators, The Longer Or Shorter Duration Of Which Distinguishes The Thinking Artist From The Dreamer. Hence Your Complaints Of Unfruitfulness, For You Reject Too Soon And Discriminate Too Severely.

Virtue Is No Empty Echo.

Full Of Wisdom Are The Ordinations Of Fate.

What Is The Short Meaning Of The Long Speech?

The Dignity Of Man Into Your Hands Is Given; Oh, Keep It Well, With You It Sinks Or Lifts Itself To Heaven.