Remember this: one can be a strict logician or grammarian and at the same time full of imagination and music.

Yes, I am going into the woods; I am going into the unity of all things.

Because the world is so full of death and horror, I try again and again to console my heart and pick the flowers that grow in the midst of hell.

The river has taught me to listen; you will learn from it, too. The river knows everything; one can learn everything from it. You have already learned from the river that it is good to strive downwards, to sink, to seek the depths.

He had thrown himself away, he had lost interest in everything, and life, falling in with his feelings, had demanded nothing of him. He had lived as an outsider, an idler and onlooker, well liked in his young manhood, alone in his illness and advancing years. Seized with weariness, he sat down on the wall, and the river murmured darkly in his thoughts.

A mere nothing suffices — and the lightning strikes.

Writing is good, thinking is better. Cleverness is good, patience is better.