I Do Not Speak Of What I

Is It Not Enough That We Cannot Make One Another Happy, Must We Also Rob One Another Of The Pleasures That Any Heart May Permit Itself Now And Then? And Name Me A Person Who In A Bad Mood Will Be Decent Enough To Hide It, To Bear It Alone, Without Destroying The Joy Around Him. Is It Not Rather An Inner Dissatisfaction With Our Own Unworthiness, A Dislike Of Ourselves That Is Always Associated With Envy Aggravated By Foolish Conceit? We See People Happy And Not Made Happy By Us, And That Is Unbearable.

The Intelligent Man Finds Almost Everything Ridiculous, The Sensible Man Hardly Anything.

If There Is Confusion In Your Head And In Your Heart, What More Do You Want! A Man Who No Longer Loves And No Longer Errs Should Have Himself Buried Straight Away.

It Is The Fortunate Who Should Extol Fortune. [ger., Das Gluck Erhebe Billig Der Begluckte.]

One Mind Is Enough For A Thousand Hands.