It is the evening that questions thus from within me.

A subject for a great poet would be God's boredom after the seventh day of creation.

One who dresses in rags that have been washed clean dresses cleanly to be sure, but raggedly nonetheless.

Everything good is the transmutation of something evil: every god has a devil for a father.

A matter that becomes clear ceases to concern us.

He who laughs best today, will also laughs last.

Oh, how much is today hidden by science! Oh, how much it is expected to hide!