Explore Quotes by Jean Paul

Sorrows are like thunderclouds, in the distance they look black, over our heads scarcely gray.

A man never discloses his own character so clearly as when he describes anothers.

Every man has a rainy corner of his life whence comes foul weather which follows him.

The darkness of death is like the evening twilight; it makes all objects appear more lovely to the dying.

Strong characters are brought out by change of situation, and gentle ones by permanence.

The miracle on earth are the laws of heaven.

Every man regards his own life as the New Year's Eve of time.

The conscience of children is formed by the influences that surround them; their notions of good and evil are the result of the moral atmosphere they breathe.

A timid person is frightened before a danger, a coward during the time, and a courageous person afterward.

Gray hairs seem to my fancy like the soft light of the moon, silvering over the evening of life.

God is an unutterable sigh, planted in the depths of the soul.

Humanity is never so beautiful as when praying for forgiveness, or else forgiving another.

Joy descends gently upon us like the evening dew, and does not patter down like a hailstorm.

Music is moonlight in the gloomy night of life.

You prove your worth with your actions, not with your mouth.

The heart needs not for its heaven much space, nor many stars therein, if only the star of love has arisen.

In later life, as in earlier, only a few persons influence the formation of our character; the multitude pass us by like a distant army. One friend, one teacher, one beloved, one club, one dining table, one work table are the means by which one's nation and the spirit of one's nation affect the individual.

The burden of suffering seems a tombstone hung about our necks, while in reality it is only the weight which is necessary to keep down the diver while he is hunting for pearls.

Fancy rules over two thirds of the universe, the past, and future, while reality is confined to the present

The last, best fruit which comes to late perfection, even in the kindliest soul, is tenderness toward the hard, forbearance toward the unforbearing, warmth of heart toward the cold, philanthropy toward the misanthropic.

The happiness of life consists, like the day, not in single flashes (of light), but in one continuous mild serenity. The most beautiful period of the heart's existence is in this calm equable light, even although it be only moonshine or twilight. Now the mind alone can obtain for us this heavenly cheerfulness and peace.