Joy, thou spark from Heav'n immortal, Daughter of Elysium! Drunk with fire, toward Heaven advancing Goddess, to thy shrine we come. Thy sweet magic brings together What stern Custom spreads afar; All men become brothers Where thy happy wing-beats are. — Friedrich Schiller Copy Share Image
A noble soul spreads even over a face in which the architectonic beauty is wanting an irresistible grace, and a often even triumphs over the natural disfavor. — Friedrich Schiller Copy Share Image
It is well for a man when he has learned to endure what he cannot change, and to give up with dignity what he… — Friedrich Schiller Copy Share Image
Why should I deem myself to be a chisel, when I could be the artist? — Friedrich Schiller Copy Share Image
Man only plays when in the full meaning of the word he is a man, and he is only completely a man when he… — Friedrich Schiller Copy Share Image
Ah, to that far distant strand Bridge there was not to convey, Not a bark was near at hand, Yet true love soon found… — Friedrich Schiller Copy Share Image
