Every Relationship Of Man To The Infinite

Man Is A Creative Retrospection Of Nature Upon Itself.

Whoever Has Not Arrived At The Clear Insight That There Might Be Greatness Entirely Outside His Own Sphere For Which He Has No Understanding, Whoever Does Not Have At Least A Dim Inkling In Which Area Of The Human Spirit This Greatness Might Be Situated: He Is Within His Own Sphere Either Without Genius, Or He Has Not Educated Himself Up To The Point Of The Classical Attitude.

Those Works Whose Ideal Has Not As Much Living Reality And, As It Were, Personality As The Beloved One Or A Friend Had Better Remain Unwritten. They Would At Least Never Become Works Of Art.

Mysteries Are Feminine; They Like To Veil Themselves But Still Want To Be Seen And Divined.

One Of Two Things Is Usually Lacking In The So-called Philosophy Of Art: Either Philosophy Or Art.