A Single Day Is Sufficient For A

So Long As Man Remains Free He Strives For Nothing So Incessantly And So Painfully As To Find Someone To Worship.

And In Vain Does The Dreamer Rummage About In His Old Dreams, Raking Them Over As Though They Were A Heap Of Cinders, Looking Into These Cinders For Some Spark, However Tiny, To Fan It Into A Flame So As To Warm His Chilled Blood By It And Revive In It All That He Held So Dear Before, All That Touched His Heart, That Made His Blood Course Through His Veins, That Drew Tears From His Eyes, And That So Splendidly Deceived Him!

All The Utopias Will Come To Pass Only When We Grow Wings And All People Are Converted Into Angels.

With Love One Can Live Even Without Happiness.

What Is Hell? I Maintain That It Is The Suffering Of Being Unable To Love.