And you know, there's less charm in life when you think about death--but it's more peaceful.

Lewin sprach nur aus, was er in dieser letzten Zeit wirklich gedacht hat. Er sah überall nur den Tod oder spürte seine Nähe. Aber sein begonnenes Werk beschäftigte ihn deswegen nur um so mehr. Irgendwie musste man sein Leben fristen, bis der Tod kam. Alles schien ihm in Dunkel gehüllt, aber gerade dieses Dunkel ließ ihn empfinden, dass der einzige leitende Faden sein Werk war, und er klammerte sich mit seiner letzten Kraft an diesen Faden und hielt sich fest.

But when, as is most often the case, the husband and wife accept the external obligation to live together all their lives and have, by the second month, come to loathe the sight of each other, want to get divorced and yet go on living together, it usually ends in that terrible hell that drives them to drink, makes them shoot themselves, kill and poison each other

God forgive me everything!’ she said, feeling the impossibility of struggling...

Man cannot possess anything as long as he fears death. But to him who does not fear it, everything belongs. If there was no suffering, man would not know his limits, would not know himself.

It's all God's will: you can die in your sleep, and God can spare you in battle.

Everything ends in death, everything. Death is terrible.

Here I am...wanting to accomplish something and completely forgetting it must all end--that there is such a thing as death.

It can't be that life is so senseless and horrible. But if it really has been so horrible and senseless, why must I die and die in agony? There is something wrong!