It Is Difficult To Discriminate The Voice

Posterity Weaves No Garlands For Imitators.

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.

O'er Ocean, With A Thousand Masts, Sails Forth The Stripling Bold- One Boat, Hard Rescued From The Deep, Draws Into Port The Old!

I Follow My Heart, For I Can Trust It.

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.