All around the circle, feeding on the green, green grass were fat and happy horses…

To sail is necessary, to live is not.

Yes, indeed, we must fly, but not with our feet, but with our hands..

Since when was genius found respectable?

Ill polish it off myself.

And all the way, to guide their chime,With falling oars they kept the time.

One does not make peace with ones friends. One makes peace with ones enemy.

We are beginning to see the influence of dream upon reality and reality upon dream.

Struck dead by an angel of God! Yet the angel must hang!

The dramas done. Why then here does any one step forth? — Because one did survive the wreck.