A Great Truth Is A Truth Whose

Reduced To A Miserable Mass Level, The Level Of A Hitler, German Romanticism Broke Out Into Hysterical Barbarism.

The Accouterments Of Life Were So Rich And Varied, So Elaborated, That Almost No Place At All Was Left For Life Itself. Each And Every Accessory Was So Costly And Beautiful That It Had An Existence Above And Beyond The Purpose It Was Meant To Serve – Confusing The Observer And Absorbing Attention.

This Was Love At First Sight, Love Everlasting: A Feeling Unknown, Unhoped For, Unexpected--in So Far As It Could Be A Matter Of Conscious Awareness; It Took Entire Possession Of Him, And He Understood, With Joyous Amazement, That This Was For Life.

One Has The Idea Of A Stupid Man As Perfectly Healthy And Ordinary, And Of Illness As Making One Refined And Clever And Unusual.

He Thought What A Fine Thing It Was That People Made Music All Over The World, Even In The Strangest Settings – Probably Even On Polar Expeditions.