Great Endowments Often Announce Themselves

The Sea Is Flowing Ever, The Land Retains It Never.

Only The Soul That Loves Is Happy

Many Hammer All Over The Wall And Believe That With Each Blow They Hit The Nail On The Head.

Create, Artist, Do Not Talk.

Everything Perfect In Its Kind Has To Transcend Its Own Kind, It Must Become Something Different And Incomparable. In Some Notes The Nightingale Is Still A Bird; Then It Rises Above Its Class And Seems To Suggest To Every Winged Creature What Singing Is Truly Like.