The years keep coming and going, Men will arise & depart; Only one thing is immortal: The love that is in my heart.

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

On the waves of the brook she dances by, The light, the lovely dragon-fly; She dances here, she dances there, The shimmering, glimmering flutterer fair. And many a foolish young beetle's impressed By the blue gauze gown in which she is dressed; They admire the enamel that decks her bright, And her elegant waist so slim and slight.

The real madness probably is not another thing that the wisdom itself that, tired of discovering the shames of the world, has taken the intelligent resolution to become mad

I bequeath all my property to my wife on the condition that she remarry immediately. Then there will be at least one man to regret my death.

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

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