“Like tired dogs they stand there,because they use up all their strengthin remaining upright in one's memory.”

“I was heading for the city in the south, of which they used to say in our village:‘There are people for you! Just think—they never go to sleep!’‘And why don’t they?’‘Because they’re fools.’‘Don’t fools get tired, then?’‘How could fools get tired?”

“I was making for that city in the south of which it was said in our village:"There you'll find queer folk! Just think, they never sleep!""And why not?""Because they never get tired.""And why not?""Because they're fools.""Don't fools get tired?""How could fools get tired!"---Children on a Country Road, Contemplation.”

“Like a Dog!”

“The hardest bones, containing the richest marrow, can be conquered only by a united crushing of all the teeth of all dogs. That of course is only a figure of speech and exaggerated; if all teeth were but ready they would not need even to bite, the bones would crack themselves and the marrow would be freely accessible to the feeblest of dogs. If I remain faithful to this metaphor, then the goal of my aims, my questions, my inquiries, appears monstrous, it is true. For I want to compel all dogs thus to assemble together, I want the bones to crack open under the pressure of their collective preparedness, and then I want to dismiss them to the ordinary life they love, while all by myself, quite alone, I lap up the marrow. That sounds monstrous, almost as if I wanted to feed on the marrow, not merely of bone, but of the whole canine race itself. But it is only a metaphor. The marrow that I am discussing here is no food; on the contrary, it is a poison.”

“All knowledge, the totality of all questions and answers, is contained in the dog.”

“When the little mouse, which was loved as none other was in the mouse-world, got into a trap one night and with a shrill scream forfeited its life for the sight of the bacon, all the mice in the district, in their holes were overcome by trembling and shaking; with eyes blinking uncontrollably they gazed at each other one by one, while their tails scraped the ground busily and senselessly. Then they came out, hesitantly, pushing one another, all drawn towards the scene of death. There it lay, the dear little mouse, its neck caught in the deadly iron, the little pink legs drawn up, and now stiff the feeble body that would so well have deserved a scrap of bacon.The parents stood beside it and eyed their child's remains.”