My guiding principle is this: Guilt is never to be doubted.

I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.

I do not read advertisements. I would spend all of my time wanting things.

I am away from home and must always write home, even if any home of mine has long since floated away into eternity.

In theory there is a possibility of perfect happiness: To believe in the indestructible element within one, and not to strive towards it.

There are two cardinal human sins out of which all others derive, deviate, and dissipate: impatience and lassitude (or perhaps nonchalance). On account of impatience they are driven out of paradise; on account of lassitude or nonchalance they do not return. Perhaps, however, only one main sense of sin is given: impatience. On account of impatience they are driven out, on account of impatience they do not turn back.

That's how it will be, except that in reality, both today and later, one will stand there with a palpable body and a real head, a real forehead, that is, for smiting on with one's hand.