The reason for you complaint lies, it seems to me, in the constraint which your intellect imposes upon your imagination. Here I will make an observation, and illustrate it by an allegory. Apparently, it is not good-and indeed it hinders the creative work of the mind-if the if the intellect examines too closely the ideas pouring in, as it were, at the gates.

Even the weak become strong when they are united.

It is through beauty that we arrive at freedom.

Only the soldier is a free man, because he can look death in the face.

The very plants turn with a joyful transport to the light.

Sorrows must die with the joys they outnumber.

He who neglects the present moment throws away all he has.