The cloudlets are lazily sailing O'er the blue Atlantic sea; And mid the twilight there hovers A shadowy figure o'er me.

Where books are burnt, men finish up being burnt too.

Christianity is an idea, and as such is indestructible and immortal, like every idea.

Whenever books are burned, men also in the end are burned.

Sleep is lovely, death is better still, not to have been born is of course the miracle.

I fell asleep reading a dull book and dreamed I kept on reading, so I awoke from sheer boredom.

Out of my great sorrows, I make little songs.