Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Quotes
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In art it's not the thinking that does the job, but making.
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My worthy friend, gray are all theories And green alone Life's golden tree.
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Doubt grows with knowledge.
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All theory, my friend, is grey, But green is life's glad golden tree.
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You don't have to travel around the world to understand that the sky is blue everywhere.
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Everywhere, we learn only from those whom we love.
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Conscience is the virtue of the observers not the agents of action.
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The greater the knowledge, the greater the doubt.
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A human being needs only a small plot of ground on which to be happy, and even less to lie beneath.
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One does not get to know that one exists until one rediscovers oneself in others.
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Noble be man, helpful and good!
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There are but few who have ideas and are, at the same time, capable of action. Ideas enlarge but stymie, action enlivens but confines.
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People who think honestly and deeply have a hostile attitude towards the public.
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Solitude is fine when you are at peace with yourself and have something definite to do.
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There is no better deliverance from the world than through art, and a man can form no surer bond with it.
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Let no one be ashamed to say yes today if yesterday he said no. Or to say no today if yesterday he said yes. For that is life. Never to have changed-what a pitiable thing of which to boast!
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Just begin and the mind grows heated; continue, and the task will be completed!
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Know'st thou yesterday, its aim and reason? Work'st thou will today for worthier things? Then calmly wait the morrow's hidden season, And fear thou not, what hap soe'er it brings.
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Do the duty which lies nearest to thee.
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True works of art are a manifestation of the higher laws of nature.
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No one is more of a slave than he who thinks himself free without being so.
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Do not give in too much to feelings. A overly sensitive heart is an unhappy possession on this shaky earth.
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The true poet is called to take in the splendor of the world and for that reason will always be inclined to praise rather than tofind fault.
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Hatred is a heavy burden. It sinks the heart deep in the breast, and lies like a tombstone on all joys.