If You Are Possessed By An Idea,

Only Love, And Not Reason, Yields Kind Thoughts.

There Is Only One Real Misfortune: To Forfeit One's Own Good Opinion Of Oneself. Lose Your Complacency, Once Betray Your Own Self-contempt And The World Will Unhesitatingly Endorse It.

I Stand Between Two Worlds. I Am At Home In Neither, And I Suffer In Consequence. You Artists Call Me A Bourgeois, And The Bourgeois Try To Arrest Me...i Don't Know Which Makes Me Feel Worse.

The Observations And Encounters Of A Devotee Of Solitude And Silence Are At Once Less Distinct And More Penetrating Than Those Of The Sociable Man; His Thoughts Are Weightier, Stranger, And Never Without A Tinge Of Sadness. Images And Perceptions Which Might Otherwise Be Easily Dispelled By A Glance, A Laugh, An Exchange Of Comments, Concern Him Unduly, They Sink Into Mute Depths, Take On Significance, Become Experiences, Adventures, Emotions.

One Has The Idea Of A Stupid Man As Perfectly Healthy And Ordinary, And Of Illness As Making One Refined And Clever And Unusual.