There are men who never err, because they never propose anything rational.

What by a straight path cannot be reached by crooked ways is never won.

For a strolling damsel a doubtful reputation bears.

The brilliant passes, like the dew at morn; The true endures, for ages yet unborn.

The world is for thousands a freak show; the images flicker past and vanish; the impressions remain flat and unconnected in the soul. Thus they are easily led by the opinions of others, are content to let their impressions be shuffled and rearranged and evaluated differently.

The present moment is a powerful goddess.

Many hammer all over the wall and believe that with each blow they hit the nail on the head.