I love and reverence the Word, the bearer of the spirit, the tool and gleaming ploughshare of progress.
Human reason needs only to will more strongly than fate, and she is fate.
For the sake of goodness and love, man shall let death have no sovereignty over his thoughts.
Everything is politics.
Disease was a perverse, a dissolute form of life.
Culture and possessions – there is the bourgeoisie for you.
Asia surrounds us — wherever one’s glance rests, a Tartar physiognomy.
And lending it one mental fillip the more, the fact that all these people were inwardly attacked by well-nigh resistless decay, and that most of them were feverish.
Analysis can be a very unappetizing affair, as much so as death.
All moral discipline, all moral perfection derived from the soul of literature.
All interest in disease and death is only another expression of interest in life.
A man’s dying is more the survivors’ affair than his own.