Blut / Blood Erlös / Proceeds Geist / Spirit Gesamtheit / Totality Instinkt / Instinct Intellekt / Intellect Liebe / Love Mann / Man Phantasie / Imagination Poesie / Poetry Sinn / Sense Verlangen / Desire Zusammen / Together
Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.
The intellect is a cold thing and a merely intellectual idea will never stimulate thought in the same manner that a spiritual idea does.
I mean the flesh, never fade! The flesh never leave the creation, see, because with that divine spirit the flesh cannot fade. If the spirit is weak then the flesh fade, seen?
Man does not live by words alone, in spite of the fact that sometimes he has to eat them.
Even if we do not walk together on the straight path, as long as we have the same destination, that is what's important.
There is nothing settled about a poet's identity. The becoming doesn't stop because the being has been achieved. They proceed together, attached in ways that are hard to be exact about.
People just don't laugh when their family is violated, and you don't shrug it off. You band together and you defend together. It's a funny, primitive instinct.
I love my DSL, but I love my WiFi more. And I probably get on the Internet 40 percent to 50 percent more because of the combination of those technologies.
The main functions of intelligence, that of inventing solutions and that of verifying them, do not necessarily involve one another. The first partakes of imagination; the second alone is properly logical.
