The bourgeois today burns as heretics and hangs as criminals those to whom he erects monuments tomorrow.

Did all this make sense?

All life was a breath exhaled by God. All dying was a breath inhaled by God.

There is, so I believe, in the essence of everything, something that we cannot call learning. There is, my friend, only a knowledge - that is everywhere.

All men of goodwill have this in common - that our works put us to shame.

When I have neither pleasure nor pain and have been breathing for a while the lukewarm insipid air of these so-called good and tolerable days, I feel so bad in my childish soul that I smash my rusty lyre of thanksgiving in the face of the slumbering god of contentment and would rather feel the most devilish pain burn in me than this warmth of a well-heated room. - Harry Haller

A tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me!... Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.