There is a rollicking kindness that looks like malice.

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

That grand drama in a hundred acts, which is reserved for the next two centuries of Europe-the most terrible, most questionable and perhaps also the most hopeful of all dramas.

Against war it may be said that it makes the victor stupid and the vanquished revengeful.

I love the great despisers because they are the great adorers.

For art to exist, for any sort of aesthetic activity to exist, a certain physiological precondition is indispensable: intoxication.

You look up when you wish to be exalted. And I look down because I am exalted.