It is impossible that beauty should ever distinctly appreciate itself.

When an idea is wanting, a word can always be found to take its place.

The day is committed to error and floundering; success and achievement are matters of long range.

In praising or loving a child, we love and praise not that which is, but that which we hope for.

Thus one can observe that those who proclaim piety as their goal and purpose usually turn into hypocrites.

A useless life is an early death.

What am I then...? Everything that I have seen, heard, and observed I have collected and exploited. My works have been nourished by countless different individuals, by innocent and wise ones, people of intelligence and dunces. Childhood, maturity and old age all have brought me their thoughts....their perspectives on life. I have often reaped what others have sowed. My work is the work of a collective being that bears the name Goethe.