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Revenge is barren of itself: it is the dreadful food it feeds on its delight is murder, and its end is despair.
Friedrich Schiller
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Friedrich Schiller
Age: 45 †
Born: 1759
Born: November 10
Died: 1805
Died: May 9
Historian
Journalist
Librarian
Novelist
Philosopher
Physician Writer
Playwright
Poet
Translator
University Teacher
Writer
Marbach/Neckar
Schillerean
Johann Christian Friedrich von Schiller
Johann C. F. Schiller
Johann Christoph Friedrich Schiller
Schiller
Fridrikh Shiller
Fridrikh Shiler
F. Shiller
Frideriko Schiller
Joh. Christoph Friedrich von Schiller
Frederick Schiller
Hsi-le
Friedrich von Schiller
Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller
Literature
Feeds
Ends
Dreadful
Barren
Revenge
Murder
Delight
Despair
Food
More quotes by Friedrich Schiller
Yes great people are always subject to persecution and always getting into straits.
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The strong man is strongest when alone.
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If you have never seen beauty in a moment of suffering, you have never seen beauty at all. If you have never seen joy in a beautiful face, you have never seen joy at all.
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He that is overcautious will accomplish little.
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It is easy to give advice from a port of safety.
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Soon is the struggle past, and to the earth, To the eternal sun, I render back These atoms, joined in me for pain and pleasure.
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We are too prone to find fault let us look for some of the perfections.
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A healthy nature needs no God or immortality
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If you cannot please everyone with your deeds and your art, please a few. To please many is bad.
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The lemonade is weak, like your soul.
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Secrecy is for the happy,--misery, hopeless misery, needs no veil under a thousand suns it dares act openly.
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Have Hope. Though clouds environs now, And gladness hides her face in scorn, Put thou the shadow from thy brow, - No night but hath its morn.
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Love can sun the realms of night.
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Cowards have done good and kind actions, but a coward never pardoned.
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A pity about the people! they are brave enough comrades, but they have heads like a soapboiler's.
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Accursed be he who plays with the devil.
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Uncommon men require no common trust give him but scope and he will set the bounds.
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I feel an army in my fist.
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Without a home must the soldier go, a changeful wanderer, and can warm himself at no home-lit hearth.
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Every great mind seeks to labor for eternity. All men are captivated by immediate advantages great minds alone are excited by the prospect of distant good.
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