My abyss speaks, I have turned my ultimate depth inside out into the light.

Men after death ... are understood worse than men of the moment, but heard better.

Of all evil I deem you capable: therefore I want the good from you.

One should not go into churches if one wants to breathe pure air.

I listened for the echo, and I heard only praise —

Sleep is no mean art.

Sensuality often makes love grow too quickly, so that the root remains weak and is easy to pull out.