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

Irony is a clear consciousness of an eternal agility, of the infinitely abundant chaos.

Religion is absolutely unfathomable. Always and everywhere one can dig more deeply into infinities.

Women are treated as unjustly in poetry as in life. The feminine ones are not idealistic, and the idealistic not feminine.

We do not see God, but everywhere we see something divine; first and most typically in the center of a reasonable man, in the depth of a living human product. You can directly feel and think nature, the universe, but not the Godhead. Only the man among men can poetize and think divinely and live with religion.

With respect to ingenious subconsciousness, I think, philosophers might well rival poets.

What is lost in the good or excellent translation is precisely the best.