It is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it.

We make our way through Everything like thread passing through fabric, giving shape to images that we ourselves do not know.

When we are only victorious over small things, it leaves us feeling small.

Being an artist means, not reckoning and counting, but ripening like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confidence in the storms of spring without fear that after them may come no summer

The only sadnesses that are dangerous and unhealthy are the ones that we carry around in public in order to drown them out with the noise; like diseases that are treated superficially and foolishly, they just withdraw and after a short interval break out again all the more terribly; and gather inside us and are life, are life that is unlived, rejected, lost, life that we can die of.

Some day when I lose you, will you still be able to sleep, without me to whisper over you like a crown of linden branches?

More belongs to marriage than four legs in a bed.