Whatever is not forbidden is permitted.
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 dictates of the heart are the voice of fate.
I am my own heaven and hell!
But how is the artist to protect himself against the corruption of the age which besets him on all sides?
Where there is much freedom there is much error.