I have to say again now. And it has nothing to do with it, at least this judgment that Goethe freemason and illuminati was.
The fist is, apart from undoubtedly existing linguistic elegance, a bad piece.
Why should own desire a little silly religious chicken as Margaret, and if, well, in sexual desire kömmt everything before then, his desire to breastfeed, need to complete self-pledging of Mephistopheles?
Of course you can say that is just it: The Allerhöchstgelahrte wants a young girl, because otherwise it's nothing interesting more comes to mind. And then takes the gate, to execute his plans even the devil.
No, this fabric is not exciting; he is not even the pile of a horse of Michael Kohlhaas worth.
The total is only tragic because it makes so much sense.
And is sad that you continue to hold this piece, like the Master Wihelm so high. As as if the German would have in the genes. In my it is not.
Well, let's take his fists sometimes serious. Then he's an idiotic, irresponsible giant asshole. Any format. A greedy, scabby little professor who discovers his first gray hair, wants to prove himself because he just yet learned anything right, that he can fuck and endured a seventeen year old (or the age of sixteen?). What he can not even alone.
This is Groschenheft. What is this?
Had he at least tried his old relax the bailiff.
But no. He needs a Putzfrollein.
Nothing, however, that he would have vergnüget times with a Putzfrollein; even if it also, at that time, because the piece plays would have been shameful, because the Putzfrollein had afterwards lost their honor and might well have been sitting there ever be ashamed of an illegitimate child, as a cheap bitch: No, Goethe is still down so such as whether these irresponsible boy was serious with Gretchen.
What a nonsense!
There is in matters of love, in fact every imaginable and yet invented nonsense, but it does not have to make much fuss, to whom one also needs the devil, because the thing banal as such and yawn.
No, dear Mr. Goethe, so beautiful some sayings: This is crap.
There are of course some say again, I would me made, due to my refusal to Freimäurerey for Intimate enemies. No. It's not like that. My literary criteria are purely literary.
It's also not that I consider myself a literary way; You have certainly done a Major; but on the base on which they were made and on which you stand still, because you have regarding the Wilhelm Meister to look just as little as with respect to the fist.
The one and the other time you send a sub Overexposed through the area, what you really really can do, but so that you have to take seriously here. That's brazen Blenderei.
You can, in fact, with your two hundred eighty IQ, not escape the suspicion that you had underpinned this on purpose. I say in any case hundertzwölfzig with mine.
It will probably take some time before, what these two works your regards me, in his own country and beyond listening.
But that does not matter. I do not need a young girl still not even fool even the devil for me to be heard.
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