Every word is a prejudice.

This sign I give you: every people speaks its tongue of good and evil, which the neighbor does not understand. It has invented its own language of customs and rights.

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

One who has a why can endure anyhow.

I notice that Autumn is more the season of the soul than of nature.

One hears - one does not seek; one takes - one does not ask who gives.

We often refuse to accept an idea merely because the tone of voice in which it has been expressed is unsympathetic to us.