The world is a bell that is cracked: it clatters, but does not ring out clearly. - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Two souls, alas, are housed within my breast,
And each will wrestle for the mastery there.

The artist may be well advised to keep his work to himself till it is completed, because no one can readily help him or advise him with it...but the scientist is wiser not to withhold a single finding or a single conjecture from publicity.

Ah, how often I've cursed those foolish pages,
That showed my youthful sufferings to everyone!
If Werther had been my brother, and I'd killed him,
His sad ghost could hardly have persecuted me more.