As long as you still experience the stars as something “above you”, you lack the eye of knowledge.
Poets are shameless with their experiences: they exploit them.
Many are stubborn in pursuit of the path they have chosen. Few in pursuit of the goal.
The desire to annoy no one, to harm no one, can equally well be the sign of a just as of an anxious disposition.
What is the truth, but a lie agreed upon.
That which does not kill me, makes me stronger.
Truths are illlusions which we have forgotten are illusions.
I hate who steals my solitude, without really offer me in exchange company.
A thought comes when it will, not when I will.
If we train our conscience, it kisses us while it hurts.
We do not place especial value on the possession of a virtue until we notice its total absence in our opponent.
The life of the enemy. Whoever lives for the sake of combating an enemy has an interest in the enemy’s staying alive.
He who possesseth little is so much the less possessed. Blessed be moderate poverty!
Sensuality often hastens the “Growth of Love” so much that the roots remain weak and are easily torn up.
You look up when you wish to be exalted. And I look down because I am exalted.
Of all that is written I love only what a man has written in his own blood.
He who climbs upon the highest mountains laughs at all tragedies, real or imaginary.
Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper.
Said ye ever Yea to one joy? O my friends, then said ye Yea also unto ALL woe. All things are enlinked, enlaced and enamoured.
Battle not with monsters lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.