Jean Paul
Jean Paul
Jean Paul, born Johann Paul Friedrich Richter, was a German Romantic writer, best known for his humorous novels and stories...
NationalityGerman
ProfessionAuthor
Date of Birth21 March 1763
CountryGermany
individual
An individual chooses and makes himself.
thinking bones break
To think new thoughts you have to break the bones in your head
men impress involved
A man is involved in life, leaves his impress on it, and outside of that there is nothing.
asking revelations minutes
I am not asking for sensational revelations, but I would like to sense the meaning of that minute, to feel it's urgency...
men sea cities
I have crossed the seas, I have left cities behind me, and I have followed the source of rivers towards their source or plunged into forests, always making for other cities. I have had women, I have fought with men ; and I could never turn back any more than a record can spin in reverse. And all that was leading me where ? To this very moment...
regret responsibility tears
I must be without remorse or regrets as I am without excuse; for from the instant of my upsurge into being, I carry the weight of the world by myself alone without help, engaged in a world for which I bear the whole responsibility without being able, whatever I do, to tear myself away from this responsibility for an instant.
hate men odd
it was odd, he thought, that a man could hate himself as though he were someone else.
damage harm oneself
One could only damage oneself through the harm one did to others. One could never get directly at oneself.
memories cutting men
Love or hatred calls for self-surrender. He cuts a fine figure, the warm-blooded, prosperous man, solidly entrenched in his well-being, who one fine day surrenders all to love—or to hatred; himself, his house, his land, his memories.
sleep eye flesh
My eyes feel all soft, all soft as flesh. I'm going to sleep.
dark sea littles
Little flashes of sun on the surface of a cold, dark sea.
believe order giving
I am beginning to believe that nothing can ever be proved. These are honest hypotheses which take the facts into account: but I sense so definitely that they come from me, and that they are simply a way of unifying my own knowledge. Not a glimmer comes from Rollebon's side. Slow, lazy, sulky, the facts adapt themselves to the rigour of the order I wish to give them; but it remains outside of them. I have the feeling of doing a work of pure imagination.
passion useless life-is
Life is a useless passion.
people feelings world
I enjoy feeling fastidious and aloof. I enjoy saying no, always no, and I should be afraid of any attempt to construct a finally habitable world, because I should merely have to say - Yes; and act like other people.