Since you know me and my destiny only too well, you probably also know what attracts me to all unfortunate people.
We amuse ourselves painting our prison-walls with bright figures and brilliant landscapes.
I bid the chords sweet music make, And all must follow in my wake.
When I say to the Moment flying; ‘Linger a while – thou art so fair!’ Then bind me in thy bonds undying, And my final ruin I will bear!
The little that is completed, vanishes from the sight of one who looks forward to what is still to do.
The day is of infinite length for him who knows how to appreciate and use it.
The present moment is a powerful goddess.
Great endowments often announce themselves in youth in the form of singularity and awkwardness.
We must not take the faults of our youth with us into old age, for age brings along its own defects.
Since Time is not a person we can overtake when he is gone, let us honor him with mirth and cheerfulness of heart while he is passing.
Rejoice that you have still have a long time to live, before the thought comes to you that there is nothing more in the world to see.
It is only necessary to grow old to become more charitable and even indulgent. I see no fault committed by others that I have not committed myself.
Age does not make us childish, as some say; it finds us true children.
The older we get the more we must limit ourselves if we wish to be active.
The day is committed to error and floundering; success and achievement are matters of long range.
A teacher who can arouse a feeling for one single good action, for one single good poem, accomplishes more than he who fills our memory with rows and rows of natural objects, classified with name and form.
Who is the happiest man? He who is alive to the merit of others, and can rejoice in their enjoyment as if it were his own.
Each ten years of a man’s life has its own fortunes, its own hopes, its own desires.
They teach in academies far too many things, and far too much that is useless.
No one as ever completed their apprenticeship.