Beware of the man who rises to power from one suspender.

He stripped off the armor of institutional friendships To dedictate his soul To the terrible deities of Truth and Beauty.

A giant as we hoped, in truth, a dwarf; A barrel of slop that shines on Lethe's wharf', Which at first seemed a vessel with sweet wine For thirsty lips. So down the swift decline You went through sloven spirit, craven heart And cynic indolence. And here the art Of molding clay has caught you for the nonce And made your shame our shame ~ Your head in bronze!

To love is to find your own soul Through the soul of the beloved one.

What is this I hear of sorrow and weariness, Anger, discontent and drooping hopes? Degenerate sons and daughters, Life is too strong for you— It takes life to love Life.

It takes life to love life.

Immortality is not a gift, Immortality is an achievement; And only those who strive mightily Shall possess it.