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"An unused life is an early death."
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"You are whatever you shall leave behind when you leave life!"

"Again, somehow, one saw life, a pure bead. I lifted the pencil again, useless though I knew it to be. But even as I did so, the unmistakable tokens of death showed themselves. The body relaxed, and instantly grew stiff. The struggle was over. The insignificant little creature now knew death. As I looked at the dead moth, this minute wayside triumph of so great a force over so mean an antagonist filled me with wonder. Just as life had been strange a few minutes before, so death was now as strange."

"Even in the valley of the shadow of death, two and two do not make six."

"Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality."
Explore more quotes by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"Man needs only a small patch of earth for his pleasures, and a smaller one still to rest beneath."

"The affairs of the world are no more than so much trickery, and a man who toils for money or honour or whatever else in deference to the wishes of others, rather than because his own desire or needs lead him to do so, will always be a fool."

"A dim vastness is spread before our souls; the perceptions of our mind are as obscure as those of our vision... But alas! when we have attained our object, when the distant 'there' becomes the present 'here,' all is changed; we are as poor and circumscribed as ever, and our souls still languish for unattainable happiness."

"If you treat an individual as he is, he will remain how he is. But if you treat him as if he were what he ought to be and could be, he will become what he ought to be and could be."

"Let this little book be thy friend, if, owing to fortune or through thine own fault, thou canst not find a dearer companion."

"You can't, if you can't feel it, if it neverRises from the soul, and swaysThe heart of every single hearer,With deepest power, in simple ways.You'll sit forever, gluing things together,Cooking up a stew from other's scraps,Blowing on a miserable fire,Made from your heap of dying ash.Let apes and children praise your art,If their admiration's to your taste,But you'll never speak from heart to heart,Unless it rises up from your heart's space."

"Moreover I hate everything which merely instructs me without increasing or directly quickening my activity."
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