Deaf rage that hears no leader.

Love is the reward of love.

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.

For the world is only governed by self-interest.

Historians are prophets with their face turned backward.

Love is only known by him who hopelessly persists in love.

Foster the beautiful, and every hour thou tallest new flowers to birth.