The inability to lie is far from the love of truth.

Against boredom the gods themselves fight in vain.

Those with certain temperaments find no way to endure themselves except by striving towards going under.

Alas, where is there still a sea in which one could drown: thus our lament resounds – across shallow swamps.

The perfect woman perpetrates literature as she perpetrates a small sin: as an experiment, in passing, glancing around to see whether anybody notices--and to make sure that somebody notices.

Fear is the mother of morality.

Ah, how little you know of human happiness - you comfortable and benevolent people! For happiness and unhappiness are brother and sister - or even twins who grow up together - or in your case - remain small together!