Only the soldier is a free man, because he can look death in the face.

Whatever lives, lives to die in sorrow. We engage our hearts, and grasp after the things of this world, only to undergo the pang of losing them.

Heaven and earth fight in vain against a dunce!

One drop of hatred left in the cup of joy turns the most blissful draught into poison.

Song forbids victorious deeds to die.

History, insofar as it accustoms human beings to comprehend the whole of the past and to hasten forward with its conclusions into the far future, conceals the boundaries of birth and death, which enclose the life of the human being so narrowly and oppressively, and with a kind of optical illusion, expands his short existence into endless space, leading the individual imperceptibly over into humanity.

It is easy to give advice from a port of safety.