One has to pay dearly for immortality; one has to die several times while one is still alive.

However much we may feel for the misery of someone close to us, we always act with some artificiality in their presence. We hold-back from telling them everything we think, often because we do not genuinely mean what we say; or because we take a pleasure in their plight, thankful that we are not affected.

One must never have spared oneself, one must have acquired hardness as a habit to be cheerful and in good spirits in the midst of nothing but hard truths.

What separates two people most profoundly is a different sense and degree of cleanliness.

One is fruitful only at the cost of being rich in contradictions.

Is it not better to fall into the hands of a murderer, than into the dreams of a lustful woman?

What does not destroy me, makes me stronger.