I am no longer a divine biped. I am no longer the freest German after Goethe, as Ruge named me in healthier days. I am no longer the great hero No. 2, who was compared with the grape-crowned Dionysius, whilst my colleague No. 1 enjoyed the title of a Grand Ducal Weimarian Jupiter. I am no longer a joyous, somewhat corpulent Hellenist, laughing cheerfully down upon the melancholy Nazarenes. I am now a poor fatally-ill Jew, an emaciated picture of woe, an unhappy man.

What lies lurk in kisses.

Religion cannot sink lower than when somehow it is raised to a state religion ... It becomes then an avowed mistress.

Ask me not what I have, but what I am.

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

We should forgive our enemies, but not before they are hanged

Every age thinks its battle the most important of all.