The spirit becomes free only when it ceases to be a support.
Who has the gift to recognize beauty, will not live long
Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.
If I could drown in sleep as I drown in fear I would be no longer alive.
A book should serve as the ax for the frozen sea within us.
What have I in common with Jews? I have hardly anything in common with myself
All knowledge, the totality of all questions and all answers is contained in the dog
Life’s splendor forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from view, deep down, invisible, far off. It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come.
She is so distinct to me, it’s as though I had run my hands all over her.
Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.
We need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.
In the struggle between yourself and the world second the world.
Don’t despair, not even over the fact that you don’t despair.
É bom quando nossa consciência sofre grandes ferimentos, pois isso a torna mais sensível a cada estímulo. Penso que devemos ler apenas livros que nos ferem, que nos afligem. Se o livro que estamos lendo não nos desperta como um soco no cr nio, por que perder tempo lendo-o? Para que ele nos torne felizes,...
I felt so weak and unhappy that I buried my face in the ground: I could not bear the strain of seeing around me the things of the earth. I felt convinced that every movement and every thought was forced, and that one had to be on one’s guard against them.
If the French were German in their essence, then how the Germans would admire them!
It is often safer to be in chains than to be free.
You once said that you would like to sit beside me while I write. Listen, in that case I could not write at all. For writing means revealing oneself to excess; that utmost of self-revelation and surrender, in which a human being, when involved with others, would feel he was losing himself, and from which,...
My ”fear”… is my substance, and probably the best part of me.
Believing in progress does not mean believing that any progress has yet been made.
How can one take delight in the world unless one flees to it for refuge?
sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless manthe most guilty.