So süß klingt allen Menschen das Wort Freiheit, dass selbst Keckheit und Frechheit überall Anklang finden, weil sie mit der Freiheit einige Ähnlichkeiten haben.

Everything else, every thought, goes fore and forever fades away into the recesses of time, and therein what remains is my soul’s love for you.

I freeze and burn, love is bitter and sweet, my sighs are tempests and my tears are floods, I am in ecstasy and agony, I am possessed by memories of her and I am in...

Yet have I oft been beaten in the field, And sometimes hurt,” said I, “but scorn’d to yield.” He smiled and said: “Alas! thou dost not see, My son, how great a flame’s prepared for...

…never would I trade for some new shape that laurel I was first, in whose sweet shade all other pleasures vanish in my heart.