But I read so seldom, that I prefer books suited exactly to my taste. And I like those authors best whose scenes describe my own situation in life, – and the friends who are about me, whose stories touch me with interest, from resembling my own homely existence,- which, without being absolutely paradise, is, on the whole, a source of indescribable happiness.
I go my way in the world wearing the smile of the dreamer.
What I possess, I see far distant lying, And what I lost, grows real and undying.
No man is more enslaved than he who falsely thinks he is free.
It is hard to write, not, as might be expected, for reasons of metre or scholarship or elaborate symbolism, but because the actual writing depends almost entirely on the chance, the mood, the energy, of the moment.
O happy he, who still renews The hope, from Error’s deeps to rise forever! That which one does not know, one needs to use; And what one knows, one uses never.
He could not deny that the beauty, the youth, the gracefulness, of the countess had made some impression on him: but his nature was entirely averse to all empty gallantry, and his principles forbade any thought of more serious enterprises; so that his perplexity at this moment was in truth extreme. The fear of displeasing the countess, and that of pleasing her too well, were equally busy in his mind.
The time for useful work flies fast. Why talk of being in the humor? Who hesitates will never be.
No nation gains the power of judgment except it can pass judgment on itself. But to attain this great privilege takes a very long time.
Well-made you are, ’tis not to be denied, The rest a bold address will win you; If you but in yourself confide, At once confide all others in you.
When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven.
What undermines my heart is the devouring force which lies hidden in the universe of nature and which creates nothing that does not destroy its neighbour and itself. And so I reel in fear, the energies of heaven and earth weaving around me. And all I see is an eternally devouring, eternally regurgitating monster. 21.
The modest truth I speak to thee. If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see Himself a whole so frequently, Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night, – Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light, The haughty Light, which now disputes the space, And claims of Mother Night her ancient place.
He who wants to recognize what is alive and describe it, seeks first to drive the spirit out of it. Then, he holds the parts in his hands. But missing is the spirit’s band.
To break up the Roman Empire and to give a new order to the world is the first and principle historical task of the Germans.
I, for my share, cannot understand,” continued she, “how men have made themselves believe that God speaks to us through books and histories. The man to whom the universe does not reveal directly what relation it has to him, whose heart does not tell him what he owes to himself and others, that man will scarcely learn it out of books, which generally do little more than give our errors names.
Ah, God! but Art is long, And Life, alas! is fleeting.
Human beings are much of a muchness. Most spend th greater part of their time working in order to live, and what bit of freedom they are left with makes them so anxious they strive by all available means to be rid of it.
A hundred times have I seized a dagger, to give ease to this oppressed heart. Naturalists tell of a noble race of horses that instinctively open a vein with their teeth, when heated and exhausted by a long course, in order to breathe more freely. I am often tempted to open a vein, to procure for myself everlasting liberty.
For true art there is no such thing as preparatory schooling, but there are certainly preparations; the best, however, is when the least pupil takes a share in master’s work. Colour-grinders have turned into very good artists.