Ask Me Not What I Have, But

You Talk Of Our Having An Idea; We Do Not Have An Idea. The Idea Has Us, And Martyrs Us, And Scourges Us, And Drives Us Into The Arena To Fight And Die For It, Whether We Want To Or Not.

The Fountain Of Love Is The Rose And The Lily, The Sun And The Dove.

The Fundamental Evil Of The World Arose From The Fact That The Good Lord Has Not Created Money Enough.

Thinking Of Germany In The Night Robs Me Of My Sleep.

Music Is A Strange Thing. I Would Almost Say It Is A Miracle.