At least we should learn to understand our fellow beings, for we are powerless to stop their misery, their ignominy, their suffering, their weakness, and their death.

One is always half mad when one is shy of people.

How small life is here and how big nothingness. The sky, tired of light, has given everything to the snow. The two trees bow their heads to each other. Clouds cross the world’s silence in a circle dance

With all my ideas and follies I could one day found a corporate company for the propagation of beautiful but unreliable imaginings.

That is all very senseless, but this senselessness has a pretty mouth, and it smiles.

To the question: How do the authors of sketches, stories and novels get along in life, the following answer can or must be given: They are stragglers and they are down at heel.

Every sensitive person carries in himself old cities enclosed by ancient walls