“For now, feeling as though my own brain were unhinged or as if the shock had come which must end in its undoing, I turn to my diary for repose. The habit of entering accurately must help sooth me.”

Nature in one of her beneficent moods has ordained that even death has some antidote to its own terrors.

Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the sky.

You cannot guess or measure the terrible endless longing to see the gates opened, and to be able to join the white figures within.

She was young and very beautiful, but pale, like the grey pallor of death.

Denn die Todten reiten Schnell. (For the dead travel fast.)

How good and thoughtful he is; the world seems full of good men–even if there are monsters in it.

Once again…welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring.

And so we remained till the red of the dawn began to fall through the snow gloom. I was desolate and afraid, and full of woe and terror. But when that beautiful sun began to climb the horizon life was to me again.

Despair has its own calms.

I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well.

Our toil must be in silence, and our efforts all in secret; for this enlightened age, when men believe not even what they see, the doubting of wise men would be his greatest strength.

Above the care of Nature and of State, Suspended in the noon of Night we wait, All slumber nursing, to make sweet and pure, While secret Nature, weaving works the cure. We are the handmaids of the hollow night,

Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never more can the Count enter there Undead.

You yourself never loved; you never love! Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so?

I want you to believe…to believe in things that you cannot.

We learn from failure, not from success!

My tendency is to be the guy in the back, even though I often end up being the guy in the front.

The timing of death, like the ending of a story, gives a changed meaning to what preceded it.

It is only the ending of capitalism, colonialism, imperialism and neocolonialism and the attainment of world communism that can provide the conditions under which the RACE question can finally be abolished and eliminated.

Your power ends where your fear begins.

Were a man’s sorrows and disquietudes summed up at the end of his life.

Since it is the practice of enlightenment, that practice has no beginning and since it is enlightenment within the practice, that realization has no end.

The time has come to put an end to the fratricidal war and to recover at last peace and accord.

He is not famous. It may be that he never will be. It may be that when his life at last comes to an end he will leave no more trace of his sojourn on earth than a stone thrown into a river leaves on the surface of the water.