Every dog has like me the impulse to question, and I have like every dog the impulse not to answer.

But what if all the tranquility, all the comfort, all the contentment were now to come to a horrifying end?

Was he an animal, that music could move him so? He felt as if the way to the unknown nourishment he longed for were coming to light.

My life was sweeter than other people's and my death will be more terrible by the same degree.

The decisive moment in human evolution is perpetual. That is why the revolutionary spiritual movements that declare all former things worthless are in the right, for nothing has yet happened.

All language is but a poor translation.

Life is merely terrible; I feel it as few others do. Often — and in my inmost self perhaps all the time — I doubt whether I am a human being.