You say I'm small? I certainly can relate, although it is a matter of perspective. The distance is deceptive, my friend, you standtoo low.
I've never been on good terms with God, but now I'm becoming His intimate, for He is truly absolute and extremely legitimate.
Caution is the daughter of circumspection, but she tends to outgrow her mother.
Science and art, or by the same token, poetry and prose differ from one another like a journey and an excursion. The purpose of the journey is its goal, the purpose of an excursion is the process.
Many said selfishness was the flaw of our modern age; but then self-conceit emerged from a corner of the deepest hell to join selfishness.
Prose talks and poetry sings.
A wise man can and should stand above his times, not so the poet, but he should be their apex.
A pious woman's neighbor, a philanthropist's child, a liberal's servant--these three have a hard life.
Drive the women from the bed just as you drove them from the choir; a eunuch sings in Rome, and the priests masturbate.
A heart that overflows may seek out merrymaking and boisterous festivities to quietly rejoice, unnoticed amidst the reveling crowds.
Recently, the Germans have developed a tendency to prefer the so-called first (youthful) style of great artists to their mature works. Could it be that they do not realize that their aesthetic criteria, generally speaking, are juvenile?
Jealousy is a grievous passion that jealously seeks what causes grief.
Love wants to be confirmed with concrete symbols, but recklessness loves instability.
Why I love the ancients so much? Aside from everything else, when I read them, the entire past between them and me unfolds at thesame time. The hearts of how many heroes and poets may have been set on fire by Plutarch's biographies which now inspire me with their own and with borrowed flames!
Human life, old and young, takes place between hope and remembrance. The young man sees all the gates to his desires open, and the old man remembers--his hopes.
The spirit of poetry combines the profundity of the philosopher and the child's delight in bright pictures.
Without a notion of the transcendental, human beings would, indeed, be animals; however, only fools can be convinced of it, and only degenerates need such a conviction.
Love! Hate! Is there no third?
Plato calls complacency the companion of loneliness.
I'd wish the government took honest people into consideration, it shows enough consideration for scoundrels.
Those who want to row on the ocean of human knowledge do not get far, and the storm drives those out of their course who set sail.
The first indication of a young person's growing smarter is that he no longer understands the things which he used to consider quite intelligible and self-evident.
You can make the best of it and be content, or you can complain, it makes no difference. What does it matter that human beings judge the things that exist?
I cannot be exacting because I respect myself.
It is good insofar as it is not evil.
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