The Greeks (n.) are eternal children — and in tragic art, children who do not know what sublime toy has arisen under their hands, and that it will be destroyed.
The Greeks (n.) were once a chaos of foreign forms, their religion a battle of all the gods of the East; they organized the chaos by thinking back to their real needs, letting pseudo-needs die out, and became the first-born of all cultured nations.
The Greeks (n.) did not deceive themselves; they deliberately and playfully embellished a cruel life with lies — and were punished with such delight in storytelling that they could hardly stop lying in daily life.
The Greeks (n.) ' secret (n.) was to honour even sickness as a god, if only it had power.
Greeks (n.) means borrowing forms and turning them into the fairest appearance — making shallow and superficial; the serious few who created science tell the most heroic story of the human spirit.
The Greeks (n.) are much older than people think: one can speak of their springtime only because a winter of wild, crude, cruel conflict preceded it — Homer stands as victor at its end.
The Greeks (n.) have a great deal on their conscience: falsification was their real trade, and all European psychology is sick with Greek superficialities.