The sun's sweet ray is hovering discovered.

Sleep is good, death is better; but of course, the best thing would to have never been born at all.

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

Life is all too wondrous sweet, and the world is so beautifully bewildered; it is the dream of an intoxicated divinity.

Lyrical poetry is much the same an every age, as the songs of the nightingales in every spring-time.

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.

That was only the beginning - where one burns books, one will finally also burn people.