I used to imagine adventures for myself, I invented a life, so that I could at least exist somehow.

Actions are sometimes performed in a masterly and most cunning way, while the direction of the actions is deranged and dependent on various morbid impressions - it's like a dream.

Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared with love in dreams.

They were like two enemies in love with one another.

To strive consciously for an object and to engage in engineering -- that is, incessantly and eternally to make new roads, wherever they may lead.

With old liars who have been acting all their lives there are moments when they enter so completely into their part that they tremble or shed tears in earnest, although at that very moment, or a second later, they are able to whisper to themselves, "You know you are lying, you shameless old sinner! You're acting now, in spite of your 'holy' wrath.

The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment.