Rest not. Life is sweeping by; go and dare before you die. Something mighty and sublime, leave behind to conquer time.

Without haste, but without rest.

Wild dreams torment me as I lie. And though a god lives in my heart, though all my power waken at his word, though he can move my every inmost part - yet nothing in the outer world is stirred. thus by existence tortured and oppressed I crave for death, I long for rest.

What is my life if I am no longer useful to others.

He who moves not forward, goes backward.

Art is long, life short, judgment difficult, opportunity transient.