I Am Who I Am And That's

But Wise Is The Man Who Disdains No Character, But With Searching Glance Explores Him To The Root And Cause Of All.

But There Is Nothing Enduring In The World, And Therefore Even Joy In The Second Minute Is Already Not As Acute As In The First; In The Third Minute It Becomes Still Weaker And Finally Merges Unnoticeably With The Usual Condition Of The Soul, As A Circle On The Water, Caused By The Fall Of A Pebble, Finally Merges With The Smooth Surface.

There Are People Who Exist In This World Not Like Entities But Like The Speckles Or Spots On Something.

Steeds, Steeds, What Steeds! Has The Whirlwind A Home In Your Manes?

It Is No Use To Blame The Looking Glass If Your Face Is Awry.