Everything I have written up to now is trifling compared to that which I would like to write and would write with great pleasureEither I am a fool and a self-conceited person, or I am a being capable of becoming a good writer; I am displeased and bored with everything now being written, while everything in my head interests, moves, and excites me-whence I draw the conclusion that no one is doing what is needed, and I alone know the secret of how it should be done. In all likelihood everyone who writes thinks that. In fact, the devil himself will be brought to his knees by these questions.

Nothing lulls and inebriates like money; when you have a lot, the world seems a better place than it actually is.

Love, respect, and friendship do unite a people as well as a common hatred does.

When performing an autopsy, even the most inveterate spiritualist would have to question where the soul is.

There will come a time when everybody will know why, for what purpose, there is all this suffering, and there will be no more mysteries. But now we must live ... we must work, just work!

Life does not agree with philosophy: There is no happiness that is not idleness, and only what is useless is pleasurable.

You look boldly ahead; isn't it only that you don't see or divine anything terrible in the future; because life is still hidden from your young eyes.