Out of life's storm I carried only a few ideas - and not one feeling.

I was lying, but I wanted to rouse him. I have an inborn urge to contradict; my whole life has been a mere chain of sad and futile opposition to the dictates of either heart or reason. The presence of an enthusiast makes me as cold as a midwinter's day, and, I believe, frequent association with a listless phlegmatic would make me an impassioned dreamer.

Evil spawns evil. The first experience of torture gives an understanding of the pleasure in tormenting others.

For what did the creator prepare me,Why did he so terribly contradictThe hopes of my youth?

We practically always excuse things when we understand them

He in his madness prays for storms, and dreams that storms will bring him peace.

my love had grown one with my soul; it became darker, but did not go out