The weakness of modern tragedy[is that] transgression against the social code is made to bring destruction, as though the social code worked our irrevocable fate.

I am turned into a dream. I feel nothing, or I don't know what I feel. Yet it seems to me I am happy.

I like Australia less and less. The hateful newness, the democratic conceit, every man a little pope of perfection.

What you intuitively desire, that is possible to you.

He who gets nearer the sun is leader, the aristocrat of aristocrats, or he who, like Dostoevsky, gets nearest the moon of our non-being.

Far back, far back in our dark soul the horse prances.

Love is never a fulfillment. Life is never a thing of continuous bliss. There is no paradise. Fight and laugh and feel bitter and feel bliss: and fight again. Fight, fight. That is life.