By the will art thou lost, by the will art thou found, by the will art thou free, captive, and bound.

The Rose is without an explanation; She blooms, because She blooms.

Nothing can throw thee into the infernal abyss so much as this detested word -- heed well! -- this mine and thine.

The name of Jesus is as ointment poured forth; It nourishes, and illumines, and stills the anguish of the soul.

Though Christ a thousand times in Bethlehem be born, / If he's not born in thee thy soul is still forlorn. / Should Christ be born a thousand times anew, / Despair, O man, unless he's born in you!

That thou seest, man, become too thou must; God, if thou seest God, dust, if thou seest dust.