“Afraid of decision, I buried my finer feelings in the depths of my heart and they died there.”

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.

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

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.

Happy people are ignoramuses and glory is nothing else but success, and to achieve it one only has to be cunning.

We practically always excuse things when we understand them.

A seed has to get buried in the soil for its real form as a plant to emerge. Only through modesty and humility can we grow. Pride and conceit will only destroy us. Live with the firm attitude, ‘I am everyone’s servant.’ Then the whole universe will bow down to us.

Doctors bury their mistakes, but mine are still on scholarship.

But assuredly Fortune rules in all things; she raised to eminence or buries in oblivion everything from caprice rather than from well-regulated principle.

Your seventh wife, Phileros, is now being buried in your field. No man’s field brings him greater profit than yours, Phileros.

I’ve lived to bury my desires, And see my dreams corrode with rust; Now all that’s left are fruitless fires That burn my empty heart to dust.

I’ve always been right here buried under the rubble of fear; I simply forgot how near I’ve always been to the heart that holds love dear.

You have no idea how life-giving it is to find around one a youth that agrees not to bury one on the spot.

Christianity … that musty old theology, which already has its grave clothes on, and is about to be buried… A wall of Bible, brimstone, church and corruption has hitherto hemmed women into nothingness.