O who knows what slumbers in the background of the times?
This is the curse of an evil deed, that it incites and must bring forth more evil.
Weep, for the light is dead.
Most gladly would I give the blood-stained laurel for the first violet which March brings us, the fragrant pledge of the new-fledged year.
The history of the world is the world's court of justice.
No doubt the artist is the child of his time; but woe to him if he is also its disciple, or even its favorite.