Every Idea Appears At First

The Flowers Of Life Are But Illusions. How Many Fade Away And Leave No Trace.

My Days Are As Happy As Those Reserved By God For His Elect; And Whatever Be My Fate Hereafter, I Can Never Say That I Have Not Tasted Joy— The Purest Joy Of Life.

Do Not Give In Too Much To Feelings. A Overly Sensitive Heart Is An Unhappy Possession On This Shaky Earth.

To Hard Necessity Ones Will And Fancy Must Conform.

But What Is Your Duty? What The Day Demands. [ger., Was Aber Ist Deine Pflicht? Die Forderung Des Tages.]