Where words leave off, music begins.
The Romans would never have had time to conquer the world if they had been obliged to learn Latin first of all.
God will forgive me, that is His business.
God will forgive me the foolish remarks I have made about Him just as I will forgive my opponents the foolish things they have written about me, even though they are spiritually as inferior to me as I to thee, O God!
I have smelt all the aromas there are in the fragrant kitchen they call Earth; and what we can enjoy in this life, I surely have enjoyed just like a lord!
Matrimony, - the high sea for which no compass has yet been invented.
Music is a strange thing. I would almost say it is a miracle. For it stands halfway between thought and phenomenon, between spirit and matter.
It is extremely difficult for a Jew to be converted, for how can he bring himself to believe in the divinity of - another Jew?
It must require an inordinate share of vanity and presumption after enjoying so much that is good and beautiful on earth, to ask the Lord for immortality in addition to it all.
Woman is at once apple and serpent.
We should forgive our enemies, but not before they are hanged
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.
First, I thought, almost despairing, This must crush my spirit now; Yet I bore it, and am bearing- Only do not ask me how.
A pine tree standeth lonely In the North on an upland bare; It standeth whitely shrouded With snow, and sleepeth there. It dreameth of a Palm tree Which far in the East alone, In the mournful silence standeth On its ridge of burning stone.
Where they burn books, at the end they also burn people
Lieb Liebchen, leg ‘s Händchen aufs Herze mein; - Ach, hörst du, wie’s pochet im Kämmerlein, Da hauset ein Zimmermann schlimm und arg, Der zimmert mir einen Totensarg. Es hämmert und klopfet bei Tag und bei Nacht; Es hat mich schon längst um den Schlaf gebracht. Ach! sputet Euch, Meister Zimmermann, Damit ich balde schlafen kann.
Where they have burned books, they will end in burning human beings.
Great genius takes shape by contact with another great genius, but, less by assimilation than by friction.
Atheism is the last word of theism.
Whatever tears one may shed, in the end one always blows one's nose.
