Hermann Hesse
Hermann Hesse
Hermann Karl Hessewas a German-born Swiss poet, novelist, and painter. His best-known works include Steppenwolf, Siddhartha, and The Glass Bead Game, each of which explores an individual's search for authenticity, self-knowledge and spirituality. In 1946, he received the Nobel Prize in Literature...
NationalityGerman
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth2 July 1877
CityCalw, Germany
CountryGermany
motivational respect honor
It is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn to see the other and honor him for what he is.
taken laughing steppenwolf
Learn what is to be taken seriously and laugh at the rest.
writing blue black
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.
dream eye masters
Should we be mindful of dreams?" Joseph asked. "Can we interpret them?" The Master looked into his eyes and said tersely: "We should be mindful of everything, for we can interpret everything.
breathing heaven ego
...Every ego so far from being a unity is in the highest degree a manifold world, a constellated heaven, a chaos of forms, of states and stages, of inheritances and potentialities. It appears to be a necessity as imperative as eating and breathing for everyone to be forced to regard this chaos as a unity and to speak of his ego as though is was a one-fold and clearly detached and fixed phenomenon. Even the best of us shares this delusion.
inspirational stupid writing
Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish.
time home house
One never reaches home, but wherever friendly paths intersect the whole world looks like home for a time.
home sky earth
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.
heart wind tree
A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening...
doe violence firsts
Any attempt to replace a personal conscience by a collective conscience does violence to the individual and is the first step toward totalitarianism.
stars years space
Solitude is independence. It had been my wish and with the years I had attained it. It was cold. Oh, cold enough! But it was also still, wonderfully still and vast like the cold stillness of space in which the stars revolve.
teaching blood
I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.
reality unreal unreal-world
There is no reality except the one contained within us.
peace war our-world
The greatest threat to our world and its peace comes from those who want war, who prepare for it, and who, by holding out vague promises of future peace or by instilling fear of foreign aggression, try to make us accomplices to their plans.