When man does not have firm, calm lines on the horizon of his life- mountain and forest lines, as it were- then a man's innermost will becomes agitated, preoccupied, and wistful.

We fear our neighbor's hostile mood because we are afraid that this mood will lead him to penetrate our secrets.

We would not let ourselves be burned to death for our opinions: we are not sure enough of them for that.

Every week we ought to have one hour for recieving letters, then go take a bath.

That for which we find words is something already dead in our hearts.

What is great in man is that he is a bridge and not a goal: what there is to love in man is that he is a going-over and a going-under.

This crown to crown the laughing man, this rose-wreath crown: I myself have set this crown upon my head, I myself have pronounced my laughter holy.