Art is the daughter of freedom.
Friedrich SchillerRead
Wouldst thou wisely, and with pleasure,_x000D_ _x000D_ Pass the days of life's short measure,_x000D_ _x000D_ From the slow one counsel take,_x000D_ _x000D_ But a tool of him ne'er make;_x000D_ _x000D_ Ne'er as friend the swift one know,_x000D_ _x000D_ Nor the constant one as foe.
Art is the daughter of freedom.
There is no such thing as chance; and what seem to us merest accident springs from the deepest source of destiny.
Who dares nothing, need hope for nothing.
While the womanly god demands our veneration, the godlike woman kindles our love; but while we allow ourselves to melt in the celestial loveliness, the celestial self-sufficiency holds us back in awe.
As noble Art has survived noble nature, so too she marches ahead of it, fashioning and awakening by her inspiration. Before Truth sends her triumphant light into the depths of the heart, imagination catches its rays, and the peaks of humanity will be glowing when humid night still lingers in the valleys.
Wise to resolve, patient to perform.
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