Against boredom the gods themselves fight in vain.

Why couldn't the world that concerns us- be a fiction? And if somebody asked, 'but to be a fiction there surely belongs an author?'- couldn't one answer simply: 'Why? Doesn't this "belongs" perhaps belong to the fiction, too?'

Ah, there are so many things betwixt heaven and earth of which only the poets have dreamed!

We must remain as close to the flowers, the grass, and the butterflies as the child is who is not yet so much taller than they are.

Our destiny rules over us, even when we are not yet aware of it; it is the future that makes laws for our today.

I understand by 'freedom of spirit' something quite definite - the unconditional will to say No, where it is dangerous to say No.

Speaking of Georges Bizet: His music has the tang of sunny climates, their bracing air, their clearness. It voices a sensibility hitherto unknown to us.