Every Night and every MornSome to Misery are born. Every Morn and every NightSome are born to Sweet Delight, Some are born to Endless Night.
William BlakeAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet, Painter
- Nationality: english
- Born: November 28, 1757
- Died: August 12, 1827
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Let thethings be illusions or not, after all I would then also be an illusion, and thus they are always like me. This is what makes them so dear andworthy of veneration for me: they are like me. Therefore, I can lovethem. And this is now a teaching you will laugh about: love, oh. Govinda, seems to me to be the most important thing of all. Tothoroughly understand the world, to explain it, to despise it, may bethe thing great thinkers do. But I'm only interested in being able tolove the...
Herman Hesse