Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Quotes
So, lively brisk old fellow, don't let age get you down. White hairs or not, you can still be a lover.
Quotes to Explore
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I'm one of those guys who has to have a constant something going inside and in front of my face. If not, I get in trouble.
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A child speaks more sense than an adult half of the time.
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Whoever uplifts civilization is rich though he die penniless, and future generations will erect his monument.
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I don't even like the word politics. It implies something underhanded and I think we need less government.
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Phronimos, possessing practical wisdom . But the only virtue special to a ruler is practical wisdom; all the others must be possessed, so it seems, both by rulers and ruled. The virtue of a person being ruled is not practical wisdom but correct opinion; he is rather like a person who makes the pipes, while the ruler is the one who can play them.
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Hay que ser muy simple para resultar siempre coherente.
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Try not to miss me when I'm gone.
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He is, most of all, l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.
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My wife can't figure out what to buy me. What do you give a man who's had everything up to here?
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The priest has just baptized you a Christian with water; and I baptize you a Frenchman, daring child, with a dewdrop of champagne on your lips.
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We are out of the ditch, we're standing, we're walking, but we're not running. I want to grow the economy.
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If I should ever decide in the future to discuss my deep Christian beliefs and condemnation and sinfulness, I would use another forum besides Playboy.
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First, the avid student must be aware that when the world was young it knew only seven things: water, life and death, salt, night, birds and the length of an hour.
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Ayahuasca loves to take prideful people and rub their nose in it. I mean it can make you beg for mercy like nothing. You have to really approach it humbly.
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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica: look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
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So, lively brisk old fellow, don't let age get you down. White hairs or not, you can still be a lover.
