Everything perfect in its kind has to transcend its own kind, it must become something different and incomparable. In some notes the nightingale is still a bird; then it rises above its class and seems to suggest to every winged creature what singing is truly like.

Who strives always to the utmost, him can we save.

If I love you, what business is it of yours?

Wanted: A dog that neither barks nor bites, eats broken glass and shits diamonds.

We should treat children as God does us, who makes us happiest when He leaves us under the influence of innocent delusions.

The man of understanding finds everything laughable.

Would you require a wretched being, whose life is slowly wasting under a lingering disease, to despatch himself at once by the stroke of a dagger? Does not the very disorder which consumes his strength deprive him of the courage to effect his deliverance?