Quotes from Lou Andreas-Salomé

Poetry is something in-between the dream and its interpretation.

Should we not be moved rather than chilled by the knowledge that he might have attained his greatness only through his frailties?

The closer two people stand to each other inwardly, the more readily they become for each other the condition under which alone their two beings find expression.

If you have no more happiness to give: Give me your pain.

Whoever reaches into a rosebush may seize a handful of flowers; but no matter how many one holds, it's only a small portion of the whole. Nevertheless, a handful is enough to experience the nature of the flowers. Only if we refuse to reach into the bush, because we can't possibly seize all the flowers at once, or if we spread out our handful of roses as if it were the whole of the bush itself -- only then does it bloom apart from us, unknown to us, and we are left alone.

What does not engage our feelings does not long engage our thoughts either.

The optimistic nature finds joy in the very feeling for life; the pessimistic nature finds a feeling for life only in joy.

Now I understand that this passion for pain, even in the torture of martyrdom, represents the haste and impatience to no longer be interrupted and disturbed by the evil that can come from this side (meaning this life).

Heaven belongs to the impetuous who won't wait.

The closer two people stand to each other inwardly, the more readily they become for each other the condition under which alone their two beings find expression.

Büyük kuramlar geli?tiriyoruz, ruhen uyumlu olmak istiyoruz, her ?eyi k?l? k?rk yararcas?na s?namak istiyoruz, ama sonunda ba?ka hiçbir i?arete bakmadan an?n bah?ettikleriyle seçiyoruz birbirimizi.

Bilinçle kavrad???m?z ve yapt???m?z ?eylerin, bireysel geli?imimizle hiçbir ilgisi olmayan gizli kalm?? duyusal izlenimlere k?yasla hayat?m?z üzerindeki etkisi ne kadar az.

Du bist nicht ein Ziel für mich, Du bist tausend Ziele... und ich... führe Dir alles zu bei meinem Dir-entgegengehn.

So that her stubborn passion for the One—as if, in this miniscule grain of dust, she had conquered the Universe and closed herself off to everything else—is immediately enlarged, as if she felt that all things were speaking a new language, with the voice of the beloved's life—with everything close to her heart down to the last of the beasts of the field.

Evet, hayat böyle bir ?ey i?te', diye k?z? o ho? ruh halinde tutmaya çabalayarak onaylad?. 'Büyük kuramlar geli?tiriyoruz, ruhen uyumlu olmak istiyoruz, her ?eyi k?l? k?rk yararcas?na s?namak istiyoruz, ama sonunda ba?ka hiçbir i?arete bakmadan an?n bah?ettikeliyle seçiyoruz birbirimizi.

Bilinçle kavrad???m?z ve yapt???m?z ?eylerin, bireysel geli?imimizle hiçbir ilgisi olmayan gizli kalm?? duyusal izlenimlere k?yasla hayat?m?z üzerindek? etkisi ne kadar az.

Poetry is something in-between the dream and its interpretation.

Should we not be moved rather than chilled by the knowledge that he might have attained his greatness only through his frailties?