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"I think of you when upon the sea the sun flings her beams. I think of you when the moonlight shines in silvery streams. I see you when upon the distant hills the dust awakes; At night when on a fragile bridge the traveler quakes.I hear you when the blows rise on high, with murmur deep. To tread the silent grove where wander I, When all's asleep."
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"I remember our childhood dayswhen life was easyand math problems hard.Mom would help us with our homeworkand dad was not at home but at work.After our chores, we'd go to the old fort museum with clips in our hair and pure joy in our hearts.You, sister, wore the bangles thatyou, brother, got as a prize from the Dentist."Why the bangles? the Dentist asked, surprised, for boys picked the stickers of cars instead."They're for my sisters, you said.Mom would treat us to a bottle of Coke,a few sips each. Then,we'd buy the sweet smelling bread from the same white vanand hand-in-hand,we'd walk to our small flat above the restaurant.I remember our childhood days.Do you remember them too?"

"Summer was a book of hope. That's why I loved and hated summers. Because they made me want to believe."

"How memories lie to us. How time coats the ordinary with gold. How it breaks the heart to go back and attempt to re-live them. How crushed we are when we discover that the gold was merely gold-plating thinly coated over lead, chalk and peeling paint."

"Eden is that old-fashioned house we dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode until we drive away."

"Oh, if I had had a friend at this moment, a friend in an attic room, dreaming by candlelight and with a violin lying ready at his hand! How I should have slipped up to him in his quiet hour, noiselessly climbing the winding stair to take him by surprise, and then with talk and music we should have held heavenly festival throughout the night!"
Explore more quotes by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"Wood burns because it has the proper stuff in it; and a man becomes famous because he has the proper stuff in him."

"A creation of importance can only be produced when its author isolates himself, it is a child of solitude."

"It is the strange fate of man, that even in the greatest of evils the fear of the worst continues to haunt him."

"One who has passed the thirtieth yearalready is as good as dead--it would be best to kill you off by then."
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