Each one sees what he carries in his heart.

Anything in the world can be endured, except a series of wonderful days.

Classicism is health, romanticisim is sickness.

What's foreign one can't always keep quite clear of,For good things, oft, are not so near;A German can't endure the French to see or hear of,Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer.

On all the peaks lies peace.

Here too it’s masquerade, I find: As everywhere, the dance of mind.I grasped a lovely masked procession,And caught things from a horror show…I’d gladly settle for a false impression,If it would last a little longer, though.