What is the true test of character unless it be its progressive development in the bustle and turmoil, in the action and reaction of daily life.

When two men quarrel, who owns the cooler head is the more to blame.

The experiences show us just as we are; they make us see our own defects.

Literature is a fragment of a fragment. Of all that ever happened, or has been said, but a fraction has been written; and of this but little is extant.

Since you know me and my destiny only too well, you probably also know what attracts me to all unfortunate people.

Two souls dwell, alas! in my breast.

I nothing had, and yet enough for youth--Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth. Give unrestrained, the old emotion, The bliss that touched the verge of pain, The strength of Hate, Love's deep devotion,--O, give me back my youth again!