“For what did the creator prepare me,Why did he so terribly contradict, The hopes of my youth?”

A strange thing, the human heart in general, and woman’s heart in particular.

Passions are merely ideas in their initial stage.

Happiness comes the way the wind blows.

I want to reconcile myself with heaven, I want to love, I want to pray, I want to believe in good.

One should never spurn a penitent criminal: in his despair he may become twice as much a criminal as before.

No good ever becomes of a man who forgets an old friend.

And I, as I lived, in an alien land, Will die a slave and an orphan.

Women love only those whom they do not know!

My love had grown one with my soul; it became darker, but did not go out.

An unusual beginning must have an unusual end.

What is this eternity to me without you? What is the infinity of my domains? Empty ringing words, A spacious temple – without a divinity!

Women only love those that they don’t know.

In the first place, [his eyes] never laughed when he laughed. Have you ever noticed this peculiarity some people have? It is either the sign of an evil nature or of a profound and lasting sorrow.

Out of life’s storm I carried only a few ideas – and not one feeling.

My whole life has been merely a succession of miserable and unsuccessful denials of feelings or reason.

Of two friends, one is always the slave of the other, although frequently neither acknowledges the fact to himself.