Hermann Hesse

“No, a true seeker could not accept any teachings, not if he sincerely wished to find something. But he who had found, could give his approval to every path, to every goal; nothing separated him from all the other thousands who lived in eternity, who breathed the Divine.”

“They knew a tremendous number of things — But was it worthwhile knowing all these things if they did not know the one important thing, the only important thing?”

“At last- I had already given up hope- he broke throught the magic wall; at last helped me; at last he said a few words. Those were the only words I heard him speak today. 'You are tiring yourself Joseph,' he said softly, his voice full of that touching friendlness and solicitude you know so well. That was all. 'You are tiring yourself Joseph.”

“No matter how inflexibly the world was clamoring for war and heroism, honor and other outmoded ideals, no matter how remote and unlikely every voice that apparently spoke up for humanity sounded, all of that was merely superficial, just as the question of the external and political aims of the war remained superficial. Deep down, something was evolving. Something like a new humanity. Because I could see people, and a number of them died alongside me, who had gained the new emotional insight that hatred and rage, killing and destroying, were not linked to the specific objects if that rage. No, the objects, just like the aims, were completely accidental. Those primal feelings, even the wildest of them, weren't directed against the enemy; their bloody results were merely an outward materialization of people's inner life, the split within their souls, which desired to rage and kill, destroy and die, so that they could be reborn.”

“I like listening to music, but only the kind you play, absolute music, the kind that makes you feel that someone is rattling at the doors if heaven and hell. I like music very much, I think, because it's so unconcerned with morality.”

“Earlier I had thought a lot about why it was so extremely unusual for a person to be able to live for an ideal. Now I saw that many people, all in fact, are capable of dying for an ideal. Only, it mustn't be a personal, freely chosen ideal, but one held in common and taken over from other people.”

“Painting is marvelous; it makes you happier and more patient. Afterwards you do not have black fingers as with writing, but blue and red ones.”

“I might be a beast astray, with no sense of its environment, yet there was some meaning in my foolish life, something in me gave an answer and was the receiver of those distant calls from worlds far above.”

“I wish that they shall all stay with the teachings, that they shall reach their goal! It is not my place to judge another person's life. Only for myself, for myself alone. I must decide, I must chose, I must refuse.”

“This is why I am continuing my travels—not to seek other, better teachings, for I know there are none, but to depart from all teachings and all teachers and to reach my goal by myself or to die.”

“ablutions”

“That is just what life is when it is beautiful and happy - a game! Naturally, one can also do all kinds of other things with it, make a duty of it, or a battleground, or a prison, but that does not make it any prettier.”

“Para nosotros, son, sin embargo, suicidas pues ven la redención en la muerte, no en la vida; están dispuestos a eliminarse y entregarse, extinguirse y volver al principio.”

“A goal stood before Siddhartha, a single goal: to become empty, empty of thirst, empty of wishing, empty of dreams, empty of joy and sorrow. Dead to himself, not to be a self any more, to find tranquility with an emptied heard, to be open to miracles in unselfish thoughts, that was his goal. Once all of my self was overcome and had died, once every desire and every urge was silent in the heart, then the ultimate part of me had to awake, the innermost of my being, which is no longer my self, the great secret.”

“The Wolf trots to and fro,The world lies deep in snow,The raven from the birch tree flies,But nowhere a hare, nowhere a roe,The roe -she is so dear, so sweet -If such a thing I might surpriseIn my embrace, my teeth would meet,What else is there beneath the skies?The lovely creature I would so treasure,And feast myself deep on her tender thigh,I would drink of her red blood full measure,Then howl till the night went by.Even a hare I would not despise;Sweet enough its warm flesh in the night.Is everything to be deniedThat could make life a little bright?The hair on my brush is getting grey.The sight is failing from my eyes.Years ago my dear mate died.And now I trot and dream of a roe.I trot and dream of a hare.I hear the wind of midnight howl.I cool with the snow my burning jowl,And on to the devil my wretched soul I bear.”

“To deal with history [life] means to abandon one's self to chaos but to retain a belief in the ordination and the meaning. It is a very serious task.”

“You will have to multiply many times your two-fold being and complicate your complexities still further. Instead of narrowing your world and simplifying your soul, you will have to absorb more and more of the world and at last take all of it up in your painfully expanded soul, if you are ever to find peace.”

“Auch das Schöne und Schönste ist vergänglich, sobald es Geschichte und Erscheinung auf Erden geworden ist. Wir wissen es und können darüber Wehmut empfinden, aber nicht im Ernst es zu ändern versuchen; denn es ist unabänderlich.”

“Natürlich gibt es sehr viele Menschen, denen das Leben leichter fällt und die scheinbar oder wirklich “glücklicher” sind; es sind die nicht stark Individualisierten, die keine Probleme kennen. Sich mit ihnen zu vergleichen hat für uns andere keinen Sinn; wir müssen unser eigenes Leben leben, und das bedeutet etwas Neues und Eigenes, immer Schwieriges und auch immer Schönes für jeden Einzelnen. Es gibt keine Norm für das Leben, es stellt jedem eine andere, einmalige Aufgabe, und so gibt es auch nicht eine angeborene und vorbestimmte Untauglichkeit zum Leben, sondern es kann der Schwächste und Ärmste an seiner Stelle ein würdiges und echtes Leben führen, und anderen etwas sein, einfach dadurch dass er seinen nicht selbstgewählten Platz im Leben und seine besondere Aufgabe annimmt und zu verwirklichen sucht.”

“Seeking nothing, emulating nothing, breathing gently, he moved in an atmosphere of imperishable calm, impresihable light, inviolable peace.”

“And some day there will be nothing left of everything that has twisted my life and grieved it and filled me so often with such anguish. Some day, with the last exhaustion, peace will come and the motherly earth will gather me back home. It won't be the end of things, only a way of being born again, a bathing and a slumbering where the old and the withered sink down, where the young and new begin to breathe. Then, with other thoughts, I will walk along streets like these, and listen to streams, and overhear what the sky says in the evening, over and over and over.”

“Well," he said with equanimity, "you see, in my opinion there is no point at all in talking about music. I never talk about music. What reply, then, was I to make to your very able and just remarks? You were perfectly right in all you said. But, you see, I am a musician, not a professor, and I don't believe that, as regards music, there is the least point in being right. Music does not depend on being right, on having good taste and education and all that.""Indeed. Then what does it depend on?""On making music, Herr Haller, on making music as well and as much as possible and with all the intensity of which one is capable. That is the point, Monsieur. Though I carried the complete works of Bach and Haydn in my head and could say the cleverest things about them, not a soul would be the better for it. But when I take hold of my mouthpiece and play a lively shimmy, whether the shimmy be good or bad, it will give people pleasure. It gets into their legs and into their blood. That's the point and that alone. Look at the faces in a dance hall at the moment when the music strikes up after a longish pause, how eyes sparkle, legs twitch and faces begin to laugh. That is why one makes music.”

“What for me is bliss and life and ecstasy and exaltation, the world in general seeks at most in imagination; in life it finds it absurd.”

“In my brain were stored a thousand pictures.”

“Generalmente, los animales son tristes. Y cuando un hombre está muy triste, no se debe a que tenga dolor de muelas o haya perdido dinero, sino porque alguna vez por un momento se da cuenta de cómo es todo, cómo es la vida y está justamente triste; entonces se parece siempre un poco a un animal: tiene un aspecto de tristeza, pero es más justo y más bello que nunca.”

“Je afschuw van de politiek, je bedroefdheid over het geklets en het onverantwoordelijke gedoe van de partijen, de pers, je wanhoop over de oorlog, over de voorbije en die nog moet komen, over de manier waarop men tegenwoordig denkt, leest, bouwt, muziek maakt, feestviert, opvoedt! Je hebt gelijk, steppenwolf, duizendmaal gelijk, en toch moet je ondergaan. Jij bent voor deze eenvoudige, gemakkelijke, met zo weinig tevreden wereld van tegenwoordig veel te pretentieus en hongerig, de wereld spuwt je uit, je hebt een dimensie te veel. Wie tegenwoordig op een prettige manier, mag geen mens zijn zoals jij en ik. Wie in de plaats van gejank muziek, in de plaats van lol vreugde, in de plaats van geld geest, in de plaats van broodwinning echt werk, in plaats van gespeel echte hartstocht verlangt, voor die is deze aardige wereld hier geen tehuis...”

“Permanecí largo rato mirándole, y sentí entonces, lejos aún en mi subconsciente, algo muy singular. Vi que el rostro de Demian no solamente era el de un muchacho, sino el de un hombre, pero me pareció ver todavía algo más: era como si en él hubiera también algo de un rostro de una mujer, y además, por un instante, aquel rostro no me pareció ya viril o infantil, maduro o joven, sino, en cierto modo, milenario; en cierto modo, fuera del tiempo, marcado por edades distintas a la que nosotros vivimos. Los animales pueden presentar ese aspecto, o los árboles, o las estrellas. Yo no lo sabía. No sentí exactamente por entonces esto que ahora describo; pero sí algo semejante. Tampoco supe en forma clara si la figura de Demian me atraía o me repelía. Sólo vi que era distinto de nosotros, que era como un animal, o como un espíritu, o como una pintura; pero distinto, extrañamente distinto de todos nosotros.”

“Perhaps I was mad, as I thought at moments; perhaps I was not like other men? But I was able to do the same things the others did; with a little effort and industry I could read Plato, was able to solve problems in trigonometry or follow a chemical analysis. These was only one thing I could not do: wrest the dark secret goal from myself and keep it before me as others did who knew exactly what they wanted to be- professors, lawyers, doctors, artists, however long this would take them and whatever difficulties and advantages this decision would bear in its wake. This I could not do. Perhaps I would become something similar but how was I to know? Perhaps I would have to continue my search for years on end and would not become anything, and would not reach a goal. Perhaps I would reach this goal but it would turn out to be an evil, dangerous, horrible one?”

“Alas, Siddhartha, I see you suffering, but you're suffering a pain at which one would like to laugh, at which you'll soon laugh for yourself.”

“On a strange and devious way, Siddhartha had gotten into this final and most base of all dependencies, by means of the game of dice. It was since that time, when he had stopped being a Samana in his heart, that Siddhartha began to play the game for money and precious things, which he at other times only joined with a smile and casually as a custom of the childlike people, with an increasing rage and passion. He was a feared gambler, few dared to take him on, so high and audacious were his stakes. He played the game due to a pain of his heart, losing and wasting his wretched money in the game brought him an angry joy, in no other way he could demonstrate his disdain for wealth, the merchants' false god, more clearly and more mockingly.”

“Suchen heißt: ein Ziel haben. Finden aber heißt: frei sein, offen stehen, kein Ziel haben ... Ein Sucher sieht manches nicht, was nah vor seinen Augen steht.”

“It taught him how to listen -- how to listen with a quiet heart and a waiting soul, open soul, without passion, without desire, without judgment, without opinion.”

“It was clear to the one speaking that each of his words was being allowed to enter into his listener, who sat there quietly, openly, waiting' not a single word was disregarded or met with impatience; Vasudeva attached neither praise nor blame to what he heard but merely listened.”

“Siddhartha considered his circumstances. Thinking did not come easily to him. He didn't really feel like it, but he forced himself.”

“We kill at every step, not only in wars, riots and executions.We kill when we close our eyes to poverty, suffering and shame.In the same way all disrespect for life, all hard-heartedness,all indifference, all contempt is nothing else than killing.”

“Faith is stronger than so-called reason.”

“...for you know that soft is stronger than hard, water stronger than rock, love stronger than force." Vesadeva to Siddartha”

“The ideas we really live have any value.”

“Eterna meditatie asupra cauzelor tristetii si incapacitatii mele de viata era sterila si obositoare. Nu aveam totusi sentimentul ca sunt sfarsit si uzat, ci eram plin de impulsuri intunecate. Printre altele, aveam si gandul deosebit sa ma tin drept un om aparte, ale carui suferinte nimeni nu le intelege, cunoaste sau impartaseste. Diabolicul in melancolie este ca ea te face nu numai bolnav, ci de asemenea inchipuit si cu vedere scurta sau chiar trufas.”

“With a secret smile, not unlike that of a healthy child,he walked along, peacefully, quietly. He wore his gown and walked along exactly like the other monks, but his face and his step, his peaceful downward glance, his peaceful downward-hanging hand, and every finger of his hand spoke of peace, spoke of completeness, sought nothing, imitated nothing, reflected a continuous quiet, an unfading light, an invulnerable peace.”

“I do not consider myself less ignorant than most people. I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.”

“These rules, the sign language and grammar of the Game, constitute a kind of highly developed secret language drawing upon several sciences and arts, but especially mathematics and music (and/or musicology), and capable of expressing and establishing interrelationships between the content and conclusions of nearly all scholarly disciplines. The Glass Bead Game is thus a mode of playing with the total contents and values of our culture; it plays with them as, say, in the great age of the arts a painter might have played with the colours on his palette.”

“Let me say no more. Words do no justice to the hidden meaning. Everything immediately becomes slightly different when it is expressed in words, a little bit distorted, a little foolish...It is perfectly fine with me that what for one man is precious wisdom for another sounds like foolery.”

“So she thoroughly taught him that one cannot take pleasure without giving pleasure, and that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every glance, every last bit of the body has its secret, which brings happiness to the person who knows how to wake it. She taught him that after a celebration of love the lovers should not part without admiring each other, without being conquered or having conquered, so that neither is bleak or glutted or has the bad feeling of being used or misused.”

“Romantic souvenirs had a way of attaching themselves to one when one wanted to move on, but they were not to be taken seriously.”

“Suddenly he thought he saw a trait of soul-less habit in her dear coarse face, something mechanical and unmysterious in her friendly smile, something unworthy of him. His gesture froze in mid-air; the smile froze on his face. Was he still in love with her, did he really still desire her? No, he had been there too often. All too often he had seen this selfsame smile and smiled back without a prompting from his heart. What had still been all right yesterday was suddenly no longer possible today.”

“Suffering was life, full of suffering was the world.”

“It was all a lie, it all stank, stank of lies, it all gave the illusion of meaning and happiness and beauty, and all of it was just putrefaction that no one would admit to. Bitter was the taste of the world. Life was a torment.”

“Those who direct the maximum force of their desires towards the center, toward the true being, toward perfection, seem quieter than the passionate souls because the flame of their fervor cannot always be seen. In argument, for example, they will not shout and wave their arms. But I assure you, they are nevertheless burning with subdued fires.”

“People like best what is hard for them to obtain.”