There, where one burns books... one, in the end, burns men.

But a day must come when the fire of youth will be quenched in my veins, when winter will dwell in my heart, when his snow flakes will whiten my locks, and his mists will dim my eyes. Then my friends will lie in their lonely grave, and I alone will remain like a solitary stalk forgotten by the reaper.

The men of the past had convictions, while we moderns have only opinions.

In the marvelous month of May when all the buds were bursting, then in my heart did love arise. In the marvelous month of May when all the birds were singing, then did I reveal to her my yearning and longing.

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

In these times we fight for ideas and newspapers are our fortress.

Oh, they loved dearly: their souls kissed, they kissed with their eyes, they were both but one single kiss.