No idea is isolated, but is only what it is among all ideas.

Many a witty inspiration is like the surprising reunion of befriended thoughts after a long separation.

Those works whose ideal has not as much living reality and, as it were, personality as the beloved one or a friend had better remain unwritten. They would at least never become works of art.

The poetry of this one is called philosophical, of that one philological, of a third rhetorical, and so on. Which is then the poetic poetry?

Wit is the appearance, the external flash, of fantasy. Hence its divinity and the similarity to the wit of mysticism.

No idea is isolated, but is only what it is among all ideas.

An aphorism ought to be entirely isolated from the surrounding world like a little work of art and complete in itself like a hedgehog.