Full of wisdom are the ordinations of fate.
The zeal of friends it is that razes me, And not the hate of enemies.
Man ever talks, and Man ever dreams Of better days that are yet to be, After glittering goal, that distant gleams, Running and racing untiringly. The worldly may grow old and young as it will, But the Hope of man is Improvement still. Hope bears him into life in her arms, She flutters around the boy's young bloom, The soul of youth with her magic warms, Nor rests with age in the silent tomb; For ends man his weary course at the grave, There plants he Hope o'er his ashes to wave.
Everlastingly chained to a single little fragment of the Whole, man himself develops into nothing but a fragment; everlastingly in his ear the monotonous sound of the wheel that he turns, he never develops the harmony of his being, and instead of putting the stamp of humanity upon his own nature, he becomes nothing more than the imprint of his occupation or of his specialized knowledge.
The May of life blooms once and never again.
Rigor pushed too far is sure to miss its aim, however good, as the bow snaps that is bent too stiffly.
Measure not by the scale of perfection the meager product of reality.
I am called The richest monarch in the Christian world; The sun in my dominion never sets.
Around, around, Companions all, take your ground, And name the bell with joy profound! CONCORDIA is the word we've found Most meet to express the harmonious sound, That calls to those in friendship bound.
All things must; man is the only creature that wills.
To be man's tender mate was woman born, and in obeying nature she best serves the purposes of heaven.
Song forbids victorious deeds to die.
To know thyself--in others self-concern; Would'st thou know others? read thyself--and learn!
Seraphs share with thee Knowledge; but Art, O Man, is thine alone!
He that is over-cautious will accomplish but very little.
If yon wish to be like the gods on earth, to be free in the realms of the dead, pluck not the fruit from the garden! In appearance it may glisten to the eye; but the perishable pleasure of possession quickly avenges the curse of curiosity.
I speak with the Eternal through the instrument of nature, through the world's history: I read the soul of the artist in his Apollo.
Folly, thou conquerest, and I must yield! Against stupidity the very gods Themselves contend in vain. Exalted reason, Resplendent daughter of the head divine, Wise foundress of the system of the world, Guide of the stars, who are thou then, if thou, Bound to the tail of folly's uncurb'd steed, Must, vainly shrieking, with the drunken crowd, Eyes open, plunge down headlong in the abyss.
Peace is rarely denied to the peaceful.
Spring flies, and with it all the train it leads; and flowers, in fading, leave us but their seeds.
Satisfy a few to please many is bad.
Have Love. Not love alone for one, but man as man they brother call; and scatter like the circling sun thy charities on all.
Dare to err and to dream. Deep meaning often lies in childish plays.
Nothing, it is true, is more common than for both Science and Art to pay homage to the spirit of the age, and for creative taste to accept the law of critical taste.
Wouldst thou wisely, and with pleasure, Pass the days of life's short measure, From the slow one counsel take, But a tool of him ne'er make; Ne'er as friend the swift one know, Nor the constant one as foe.
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