The romance of life begins and ends with two blank pages. Age and extreme old age. — Jean Paul Copy Share Image
For no one does life drag more disagreeably than for those who try to speed it up. — Jean Paul Copy Share Image
Man has here two and a half minutes-one to smile, one to sigh, and a half to love: for in the midst… — Jean Paul Copy Share Image
Two aged men, that had been foes for life, Met by a grave, and wept - and in those tears They washed… — Jean Paul Copy Share Image
Gray hairs seem to my fancy like the soft light of the moon, silvering over the evening of life. — Jean Paul Copy Share Image
Like a morning dream, life becomes more and more bright the longer we live, and the reason of everything appears more clear.… — Jean Paul Copy Share Image
In later life, as in earlier, only a few persons influence the formation of our character; the multitude pass us by like… — Jean Paul Copy Share Image
The happiness of life consists, like the day, not in single flashes (of light), but in one continuous mild serenity. The most… — Jean Paul Copy Share Image
Every man has a rainy corner of his life whence comes foul weather which follows him. — Jean Paul Copy Share Image
What Cicero said of men-that they are like wines, age souring the bad, and bettering the good-we can say of misfortune, that it has… — Jean Paul Copy Share
Like a morning dream, life becomes more and more bright the longer we live, and the reason of everything appears more clear. What has… — Jean Paul Copy Share
I have made as much out of myself as could be made of the stuff, and no man should require more. — Jean Paul Copy Share
In science the new is an advance; but in morals, as contradicting our inner ideals and historic idols, it is ever a retrogression. — Jean Paul Copy Share
It has been jestingly said that the works of John Paul Richter are almost unintelligible to any but the Germans, and even to some… — Jean Paul Copy Share
What makes old age so sad is, not that our joys, but that our hopes then cease. — Jean Paul Copy Share
There are souls which fall from heaven like flowers, but ere they bloom are crushed under the foul tread of some brutal hoof. — Jean Paul Copy Share
