Nothing Is Worth More Than

Viewed From The Summit Of Reason, All Life Looks Like A Malignant Disease And The World Like A Madhouse.

A True German Can't Stand The French, Yet Willingly He Drinks Their Wines.

Talent Is Nurtured In Solitude; Character Is Formed In The Stormy Billows Of The World. [ger., Es Bildet Ein Talent Sich In Der Stille, Sich Ein Charakter In Dem Strom Der Welt.]

Were The Eye Not Of The Sun, How Could We Behold The Light? If God's Might And Ours Were Not As One, How Could His Work Enchant Our Sight?

Nothing Will Change The Fact That I Cannot Produce The Least Thing Without Absolute Solitude.