The dreamer whose dreams are non-utilitarian has no place in this world. In this world the poet is anathema, the thinker a fool, the artist an escapist, the man of vision a criminal.

Day by day. No yesterdays and no tomorrows. The barometer never changes, the flag is always at half-mast.

Fame is an illusive thing - here today, gone tomorrow. The fickle, shallow mob raises its heroes to the pinnacle of approval today and hurls them into oblivion tomorrow at the slightest whim; cheers today, hisses tomorrow; utter forgetfulness in a few months.

The ordinary man is involved in action, the hero acts. An immense difference.

On the meridian of time, there is no injustice: there is only the poetry of motion creating the illusion of truth and drama.

The Teutons have been singing the swan song ever since they entered the ranks of history. They have always confounded truth with death.

When you travel often, you will be addicted to it forever.