Hermann Hesse Quotes About Soul

Quotes about: Soul

• Wisdom is nothing but a preparation of the soul, a capacity, a secret art of thinking, feeling and breathing thoughts of unity at every moment of life.

  Hermann Hesse

  Life, Wisdom, Art

  Hermann Hesse (2015). “Siddhartha: An Indian Tale”, p.98, Om Books International

• Whoever wants music instead of noise, joy instead of pleasure, soul instead of gold, creative work instead of business, passion instead of foolery, finds no home in this trivial world of ours.

  Hermann Hesse

  Passion, Home, Creative

  Hermann Hesse (2013). “Steppenwolf: A Novel”, p.151, Macmillan

• We must become so alone, so utterly alone, that we withdraw into our innermost self. It is a way of bitter suffering. But then our solitude is overcome, we are no longer alone, for we find that our innermost self is the spirit, that it is God, the indivisible. And suddenly we find ourselves in the midst of the world, yet undisturbed by its multiplicity, for our innermost soul we know ourselves to be one with all being.

  Hermann Hesse

  Loneliness, Self, Soul

• As a body everyone is single, as a soul never.

  Hermann Hesse

  Being Single, Soul, Literature

  Hermann Hesse (1980). “Six Novels: With Other Stories and Essays”

• All suicides have the responsibility of fighting against the temptation of suicide. Every one of them knows very well in some corner of his soul that suicide, though a way out, is rather a mean and shabby one, and that it is nobler and finer to be conquered by life than to fall by one's own hand.

  Hermann Hesse

  Suicide, Fall, Mean

  Hermann Hesse (1983). “Steppenwolf”, Bantam

• She stood before him and surrendered herself to him and sky, forest, and brook all came toward him in new and resplendent colors, belonged to him, and spoke to him in his own language. And instead of merely winning a woman he embraced the entire world and every star in heaven glowed within him and sparkled with joy in his soul. He had loved and had found himself. But most people love to lose themselves.

  Hermann Hesse

  Love, Stars, Winning

  Ernest Hemingway, Knut Hamsun, Hermann Hesse (1971). “Ernest Hemingway, Knut Hamsun [and] Hermann Hesse”

• Rain Soft rain, summer rain Whispers from bushes, whispers from trees. Oh, how lovely and full of blessing To dream and be satisfied. I was so long in the outer brightness, I am not used to this upheaval: Being at home in my own soul, Never to be led elsewhere. I want nothing, I long for nothing, I hum gently the sounds of childhood, And I reach home astounded In the warm beauty of dreams. Heart, how torn you are, How blessed to plow down blindly, To think nothing, to know nothing, Only to breathe, only to feel.

  Hermann Hesse

  Summer, Dream, Blessed

• For mountain and stream, tree and leaf, root and blossom, every form in nature is echoed in us and originates in the soul whose being is eternity and is hidden from us but none the less gives itself to us for the most part in the power of love and creation.

  Hermann Hesse

  Roots, Giving, Tree

• Every phenomenon on earth is symbolic, and each symbol is an open gate through which the soul, if it is ready, can enter into the inner part of the world, where you and I and day and night are all one.

  Hermann Hesse

  Night, Soul, One Day

• He was taught by the river. Incessantly, he learned from it. Most of all, he learned from it to listen, to pay close attention with a quiet heart, with a waiting, opened soul, without passion, without a wish, without judgement, without an opinion.

  Hermann Hesse

  Passion, Heart, Rivers

  Hermann Hesse (2017). “Siddhartha”, p.77, Youcanprint

• Your soul is the whole world.

  Hermann Hesse

  Soul, Siddhartha, World

  Hermann Hesse (2016). “Siddhartha (World Classics, Unabridged)”, p.5, Vij Books India Pvt Ltd

• Look: We hate nothing that exists, not even death, suffering and dying, does not horrify our souls, as long as we learn more deeply to love.

  Hermann Hesse

  Hate, Long, Soul

• Man designs for himself a garden with a hundred kinds of trees, a thousand kinds of flowers, a hundred kinds of fruit and vegetables. Suppose, then, that the gardener of this garden knew no other distinction between edible and inedible, nine-tenths of this garden would be useless to him. He would pull up the most enchanting flowers and hew down the noblest trees and even regard them with a loathing and envious eye. This is what the Steppenwolf does with the thousand flowers of his soul. What does not stand classified as either man or wolf he does not see at all.

  Hermann Hesse

  Flower, Eye, Men

  Hermann Hesse (1983). “Steppenwolf”, Bantam

• But of all the water's secrets, he saw today only a single one-one that struck his soul. He saw that this water flowed and flowed, it was constantly flowing, and yet it was always there; it was always eternally the same and yet new at every moment! Oh, to be able to grasp this, to understand this!

  Hermann Hesse

  Water, Soul, Secret

• Only within yourself exists the other reality for which you long. I can give you nothing that has not already its being within yourself. I can throw open to you no picture gallery but your own soul.

  Hermann Hesse

  Change, Reality, Long

• Slowly blossomed, slowly ripened in Siddhartha the realisation, the knowledge, what wisdom actually was, what the goal of his long search was. It was nothing but a readiness of the soul, an ability, a secret art, to think every moment, while living his life, the thought of oneness, to be able to feel and inhale the oneness.

  Hermann Hesse

  Art, Thinking, Oneness

  Hermann Hesse (2016). “Siddhartha”, p.95, Jaico Publishing House

• The judge who sits over the murderer and looks into his face, and at one moment recognizes all the emotions and potentialities and possibilities of the murderer in his own soul and hears the murderer's voice as his own, is at the next moment one and indivisible as the judge, and scuttles back into the shell of his cultivated self and does his duty and condemns the murderer to death.

  Hermann Hesse

  Voice, Self, Judging

  Hermann Hesse (1983). “Steppenwolf”, Bantam

• I learned through my body and soul that it was necessary for me to sin, that I needed lust, that I had to strive for property and experience nausea and the depths of despair in order to learn not to resist them, in order to learn to love the world.

  Hermann Hesse

  Order, Perfection, Soul

  "Siddhartha: An Indian Tale".

• Dreams and restless thoughts came flowing to him from the river, from the twinkling stars at night, from the sun's melting rays. Dreams and a restlessness of the soul came to him.

  Hermann Hesse

  Dream, Stars, Night

  Hermann Hesse (2015). “Siddhartha: An Indian Tale”, p.7, Om Books International

• I call that man awake who, with conscious knowledge and understanding, can perceive the deep unreasoning powers in his soul, his whole innermost strength, desire and weakness, and knows how to reckon with himself.

  Hermann Hesse

  Men, Understanding, Soul

  Hermann Hesse (1959). “Goldmund”

• ...and the vessel was not full, his intellect was not satisfied, his soul was not at peace, his heart was not still.

  Hermann Hesse

  Heart, Soul, Intellect

  Hermann Hesse (2015). “Siddhartha: An Indian Tale”, p.8, Om Books International

• All the books of the world full of thoughts and poems are nothing in comparison to a minute of sobbing, when feeling surges in waves, the soul feels itself profoundly and finds itself. Tears are the melting ice of snow. All angels are close to the crying person.

  Hermann Hesse

  Book, Angel, Ice

  Hermann Hesse (2009). “The Fairy Tales of Hermann Hesse”, p.182, Bantam

• A soul that is ruined in the bud will frequently return to the springtime of its beginning and its promise-filled childhood, as though it could discover new hopes there and retie the broken threads of life. The shoots grow rapidly and eagerly, but it is only a sham life that will never be a genuine tree.

  Hermann Hesse

  Broken, Childhood, Tree

  Hermann Hesse (2013). “Beneath the Wheel: A Novel”, p.132, Macmillan

• When I have neither pleasure nor pain and have been breathing for a while the lukewarm insipid air of these so-called good and tolerable days, I feel so bad in my childish soul that I smash my rusty lyre of thanksgiving in the face of the slumbering god of contentment and would rather feel the most devilish pain burn in me than this warmth of a well-heated room. - Harry Haller

  Hermann Hesse

  Pain, Air, Breathing

  Hermann Hesse (1980). “Six Novels: With Other Stories and Essays”

• Om is the bow, the arrow is soul.

  Hermann Hesse

  Arrows, Soul, Bows

  Hermann Hesse (2016). “Siddhartha”, p.9, Jaico Publishing House

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