Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Johann WolfgangGoethetə/; German: ; 28 August 1749 – 22 March 1832) was a German writer and statesman. His body of work includes epic and lyric poetry written in a variety of metres and styles; prose and verse dramas; memoirs; an autobiography; literary and aesthetic criticism; treatises on botany, anatomy, and colour; and four novels. In addition, numerous literary and scientific fragments, more than 10,000 letters, and nearly 3,000 drawings by him exist...
NationalityGerman
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth28 August 1749
CountryGermany
Every day we should hear at least one little song, read one good poem, see one exquisite picture, and, if possible, speak a few sensible words.
Courage is the commitment to begin without any guarantee of success.
Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen.
Our friends show us what we can do; our enemies teach us what we must do.
As long as you are not aware of the continual law of Die and Be Again, you are merely a vague guest on a dark Earth.
If I accept you as you are, I will make you worse; however, if I treat you as though you are what you are capable of becoming, I help you become that.
We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe.
Mathematics has the completely false reputation of yielding infallible conclusions. Its infallibility is nothing but identity. Two times two is not four, but it is just two times two, and that is what we call four for short. But four is nothing new at all. And thus it goes on and on in its conclusions, except that in the higher formulas the identity fades out of sight.
We gladly put antiquity above our age but not posterity. Only a father doesn't begrudge his son's talent.
You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him.
Sin writes histories, goodness is silent.
He who is firm in will molds the world to himself. [Ger., Aber wer fest auf dem Sinne beharrt, der bildet die Welt sich.]
The human race is a monotonous affair. Most people spend the greatest part of their time working in order to live, and what little freedom remains so fills them with fear that they seek out any and every means to be rid of it.
The man who is born with a talent which he was meant to use finds his greatest happiness in using it.