It has been jestingly said that the works of John Paul Richter are almost unintelligible to any but the Germans, and even to some of them. A worthy German, just before Richter's death, edited a complete edition of his works, in which one particular passage fairly puzzled him. Determined to have it explained at the source, he went to John Paul himself. The author's reply was very characteristic: "My good friend, when I wrote that passage, God and I knew what it meant; it is possible that God knows it still; but as for me, I have totally forgotten."

Courage consists not in blindly overlooking danger, but in seeing it, and conquering it.

As a man grows older it is harder and harder to frighten him.

The darkness of death is like the evening twilight; it makes all objects appear more lovely to the dying.

Individuality is to be preserved and respected everywhere, as the root of everything good.

Men, like bullets, go farthest when they are smoothest.

A timid person is frightened before a danger, a coward during the time, and a courageous person afterward.