The Finest And Noblest Ground On Which

Talent Alone Cannot Make A Writer. There Must Be A Man Behind The Book.

Every Thing Admonishes Us How Needlessly Long Life Is.

Our Country, Customs, Laws, Our Ambitions, And Our Notions Of Fit And Fair-all These We Never Made; We Found Them Ready-made; We But Quote From Them. What Would Remain To Me If This Art Of Appropriation Were Derogatory To Genius? Every One Of My Writings Has Been Furnished To Me By A Thousand Different Persons, A Thousand Things; Wise And Foolish Have Brought Me, Without Suspecting It, The Offering Of Their Thoughts, Faculties, And Experience. My Work Is An Aggregation Of Beings Taken From The Whole Of Nature. It Bears The Name Of Goethe.

The Foundation Of Culture, As Of Character, Is At Last The Moral Sentiment.

The Solitary Knows The Essence Of The Thought, The Scholar In Society Only Its Fair Face.