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Art is based on a strong sentiment of religion,--on a profound and mighty earnestness; hence it is so prone to co-operate with religion.
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In nature we never see anything isolated, but everything in connection with something else which is before it, beside it, under it and over it.
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Know thyself? If I knew myself I would run away.
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We don't get to know people when they come to us; we must go to them to find out what they are like.
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What is my life if I am no longer useful to others.
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To think is easy. To act is hard. But the hardest thing in the world is to act in accordance with your thinking.
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The greatest joy of a thinking man is to have searched the explored and to quietly revere the unexplored.
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You'll never attain it unless you know the feeling.
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Why go further and further, Look, happiness is right here. Learn how to grab hold of luck, For luck is always there.
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In comradeship is danger countered best.
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No wise combatant underestimates their antagonist.
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The one who acts is always without conscience; nobody has a conscience but the contemplative person.
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Tomorrow sees undone, what happens not to-day; Still forward press, nor never tire! The possible, with steadfast trust, Resolve should be by the forelock grasp. Then she will ne'er let go her clasp, And labors on, because she must.
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Fret not over the irretrievable, but ever act as if thy life were just begun.
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Life seems so vulgar, so easily content with the commonplace things of every day, and yet it always nurses and cherishes certain higher claims in secret, and looks about for the means of satisfying them.
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The soul that sees beauty may sometimes walk alone.
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The bed of flowers Loosens amain, The beauteous snowdrops Droop o'er the plain. The crocus opens Its glowing bud, Like emeralds others, Others, like blood. With saucy gesture Primroses flare, And roguish violets, Hidden with care; And whatsoever There stirs and strives, The Spring's contented, If works and thrives.
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He is happy as well as great who needs neither to obey nor to command in order to be something.
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The public wishes itself to be managed like a woman; one must say nothing to it except what it likes to hear.
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It is unpleasant to miss even the most trifling thing to which we have been accustomed.
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The flowers of life are but visionary. How many pass away and leave no trace behind! How few yield any fruit,--and the fruit itself, how rarely does it ripen! And yet there are flowers enough; and is it not strange, my friend, that we should suffer the little that does really ripen to rot, decay, and perish unenjoyed?
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We are our own devils; we drive ourselves out of our Edens.
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What is not started today is never finished tomorrow.
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Mannerism is always longing to have done, and has no true enjoyment in work. A genuine, really great talent, on the other hand, has its greatest happiness in execution.