The men of action are, after all, only the unconscious instruments of the men of thought.
The stones here speak to me, and I know their mute language. Also, they seem deeply to feel what I think. So a broken column of the old Roman times, an old tower of Lombardy, a weather- beaten Gothic piece of a pillar understands me well. But I am a ruin myself, wandering among ruins.
Every period of time is a sphinx that throws itself into the abyss as soon as its riddle has been solved.
Thought is invisible nature.
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.
Whatever tears one may shed, in the end one always blows one's nose.
The Portuguese, Dutch and English have been for a long time year after year, shipping home the treasures of India in their big vessels. We Germans have been all along been left to watch it. Germany would do likewise, but hers would be treasures of spiritual knowledge.
God will forgive me the foolish remarks I have made about Him just as I will forgive my opponents the foolish things they have written about me, even though they are spiritually as inferior to me as I to thee, O God!
I call'd the devil, and he came, And with wonder his form did I closely scan; He is not ugly, and is not lame, But really a handsome and charming man. A man in the prime of life is the devil, Obliging, a man of the world, and civil; A diplomatist too, well skill'd in debate, He talks quite glibly of church and state.
While we are indifferent to our good qualities, we keep on deceiving ourselves in regard to our faults, until we come to look on them as virtues.
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers, and as the human heart, imagining itself alone and unwatched, feels most deeply in the night-time, so seems it as if the flowers, in musing modesty, await the mantling eventide ere they give themselves up wholly to feeling...
Wherever books are burned, human beings are destined to be burned too.
Poverty sits by the cradle of all our great men and rocks all of them to manhood.
Freedom is a new religion, the religion of our time.
Woman is at once apple and serpent.
I fell asleep reading a dull book and dreamed I kept on reading, so I awoke from sheer boredom.
Every age thinks its battle the most important of all.
The sea appears all golden. Beneath the sun-lit sky.
It is a common phenomenon that just the prettiest girls find it so difficult to get a man.
Thinking of Germany in the night robs me of my sleep.
The real madness probably is not another thing that the wisdom itself that, tired of discovering the shames of the world, has taken the intelligent resolution to become mad
But a day must come when the fire of youth will be quenched in my veins, when winter will dwell in my heart, when his snow flakes will whiten my locks, and his mists will dim my eyes. Then my friends will lie in their lonely grave, and I alone will remain like a solitary stalk forgotten by the reaper.
Wild, dark times are rumbling toward us, and the prophet who wishes to write a new apocalypse will have to invent entirely new beasts, and beasts so terrible that the ancient animal symbols of St. John will seem like cooing doves and cupids in comparison.
It must require an inordinate share of vanity and presumption, too, after enjoying so much that is good and beautiful on earth, to ask the Lord for immortality in addition to it all.
Great genius takes shape by contact with another great genius, but less by assimilation than by friction.
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