From outside one will always triumphantly impress theories upon the world and then fall straight into the ditch one has dug, but only from inside will one keep oneself and the world quiet and true.

Every one of us has a bad conscience, which he tries to escape by going to sleep as quickly as possible.

Now the Sirens have a still more fatal weapon than their song, namely their silence... someone might possibly have escaped from their singing; but from their silence, certainly never.

If something good has lost its way into you, it will make its escape overnight. I know you.

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.

It is comforting to reflect that the disproportion of things in the world seems to be only arithmetical.

Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.