Thought is invisible nature.

The sun's sweet ray is hovering discovered.

The swan, like the soul of the poet, By the dull world is ill understood.

The beauteous dragonfly's dancing By the waves of the rivulet glancing; She dances here and she dances there, The glimmering, glittering flutterer fair. Full many a beetle with loud applause Admires her dress of azure gauze, Admires her body's bright splendour, And also her figure so slender...

Reason exercises merely the function of preserving order, is, so to say, the police in the region of art. In life it is mostly a cold arithmetician summing up our follies.

Whether a revolution succeeds or fails people of great hearts will always be sacrificed to it.

That was only the beginning - where one burns books, one will finally also burn people.