Nothing Is More Fatal To Happiness Than

Most Often It Happens That One Attributes To Others Only The Feelings Of Which One Is Capable Oneself.

To Understand Is Nothing, But To Be Understood-that Is The Problem And The Source Of Anguish. The Soul Throbs And Would Have The Other Know-but Can Not And Feels Isolated. Then Come Gestures, Words, Awkward Explanations And Material Symbols For Imponderable Outbursts Of Feeling-and The Soul Despairs.

How Much More Sensuality Invites To Art Than Does Sentimentality.

The Individual Person Is More Interesting Than People In General; He And Not They Is The One Whom God Created In His Image.

To Love The Truth Is To Refuse To Let Oneself Be Saddened By It.