Life did not intend to make us perfect. Whoever is perfect belongs in a museum.|
Strange how complicated we can make things just to avoid showing what we feel!
Life is a disease, brother, and death begins already at birth. Every breath, every heartbeat, is a moment of dying - a little shove toward the end.
It is very queer that the unhappiness of the world is so often brought on by small men.
No matter how improbable an assertion is, if it is made with enough assurance it has an affect.
To forget is the secret of eternal youth. One grows old only through memory. There's much too little forgetting.
I am young, I am twenty years old; yet I know nothing of life but despair, death, fear, and fatuous superficiality cast over an abyss of sorrow. I see how peoples are set against one another, and in silence, unknowingly, foolishly, obediently, innocently slay one another.
.. but that's what mankind is like: they only prize what they no longer possess.