When nations grow old the Arts grow cold And commerce settles on every tree

For everything exists and not one sigh nor smile nor tear, one hair nor particle of dust, not one can pass away.

And is he honest who resists his genius or conscience only for the sake of present ease or gratification

The man who never alters his opinions is like standing water, and breeds reptiles of the mind.

Does the Eagle know what is in the pit Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod, Or Love in a golden bowl?

He who has few things to desire cannot have many to fear.

Nothing is real beyond imaginative patterns men make of reality.