Song forbids victorious deeds to die.

Art is the right hand of Nature. The latter has only given us being, the former has made us men.

Did you think the lion was sleeping because he didn't roar?

A noble soul spreads even over a face in which the architectonic beauty is wanting an irresistible grace, and a often even triumphs over the natural disfavor.

Courage, ne'er by sorrow broken! Aid where tears of virtue flow; Faith to keep each promise spoken! Truth alike to friend and foe!

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

I follow my heart, for I can trust it.