From Every Englishman Emanates A Kind Of

And The Dancing Has Begun Now, And The Dancings Whirl Round Gaily In The Waltz's Giddy Mazes, And The Ground Beneath Them Trembles.

High In The Air Rises The Forest Of Oaks, High Over The Oaks Soar The Eagle, High Over The Eagle Sweep The Clouds, High Over The Clouds Gleam The Stars... High Over The Stars Sweep The Angels.

We Should Forgive Our Enemies, But Not Before They Are Hanged

Wherever They Burn Books They Will Also, In The End, Burn Human Beings.

It Must Require An Inordinate Share Of Vanity And Presumption, Too, After Enjoying So Much That Is Good And Beautiful On Earth, To Ask The Lord For Immortality In Addition To It All.