One Is Never Deceived; One Deceives Oneself.

Must It Ever Be Thus-that The Source Of Our Happiness Must Also Be The Fountain Of Our Misery? The Full And Ardent Sentiment Which Animated My Heart With The Love Of Nature, Overwhelming Me With A Torrent Of Delight, And Which Brought All Paradise Before Me, Has Now Become An Insupportable Torment, A Demon Which Perpetually Pursues And Harrasses Me.

Does Not Man Lack The Force At The Very Point Where He Needs It Most? And When He Soars Upward In Joy, Or Sinks Down In Suffering, Is Not Checked In Both, Is He Not Returned Again To The Dull, Cold Sphere Of Awareness, Just When He Was Longing To Lose Himself In The Fullness Of The Infinite.

A True German Can't Stand The French, Yet Willingly He Drinks Their Wines.

To Be Pleased With One's Limits Is A Wretched State.

Great Possessions And Great Want Of Them Are Both Strong Temptations.