There is a down-and-outness under true knowledge and a childlike happy arising from it.

The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired. Only after death, only in solitude, does a man’s true nature emerge. In death, as on the chimney sweep’s Saturday night, the soot gets washed from his body.

There are questions we could not get past if we were not set free from them by our very nature.

The relationship to one's fellow man is the relationship of prayer, the relationship to oneself is the relationship of striving; it is from prayer that one draws the strength for one's striving.

I have hardly anything in common with myself and should stand very quietly in a corner, content that I can breathe.

And I leave my post of observation and find I have had enough of this outside life; I feel that there is nothing more that I can learn here, either now or at any time. And I long to say a last goodbye to everything up here, to go down into my burrow never to return again, let things take their course, and not try to retard them with my profitless vigils.

You are so vulnerably haunting. Your eeriness is terrifyingly irresistible.