Only love, and not reason, yields kind thoughts. - Thomas Mann

Disease, and most specially opprobrious, suppressed, secret disease, creates a certain critical opposition to the world, to mediocre life, disposes a man to be obstinate and ironical toward civil order, so that he seeks refuge in free thought, in books, in study.

Ako vam je suviše stalo do onoga što imate kazati, ako vam je ono suviše priraslo srcu, možete biti sigurni, da ćete doživeti potpuni neuspeh. Postat ćete patetični, postati ćete sentimentalni, pod vašim rukama nastaće nešto nezgrapno, nespretno, neozbiljno, neobuzdano, bez ironije, neslano, dosadno, banalno a kraj priče biće: samo ravnodušnost u ljudi, samo razočaranje i jad u vama.
Jer tako vam je to , Lizaveto: Osećaj, topli, srdačni osećaj uvek je banalan i neupotrebljiv a umetnička je samo razdraženost i hladna ekstaza našeg pokvarenog, našeg artističkog živčanog sistema

A black pall, you know, with a silver cross on it, or R.I.P. — requiescat in pace — you know. That seems to me the most beautiful expression — I like it much better than ‘He is a jolly good fellow,’ which is simply rowdy.