Love is, that you are the knife which I plunge into myself.

If education tries to make other persons out of us than we essentially are, deeper inside, it stultifies, and reproach matters.

Anyone who loves his neighbor within the limits of the world is doing no more and no less injustice than someone who loves himself within the limits of the world.

Association with human beings lures one into self-observation.

It would be very unjust to say that you deserted me, but that I was deserted, and sometimes terribly so, is true.

In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.

I’m tired, can’t think of anything and want only to lay my face in your lap, feel your hand on my head and remain like that through all eternity.