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The life of the wealthy is one long Sunday.
Georg Buchner
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Georg Buchner
Age: 23 †
Born: 1813
Born: October 17
Died: 1837
Died: February 19
Author
Dramatist
Naturalist
Philosopher
Physician
Physician Writer
Playwright
Poet
Revolutionary
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Writer
København
Karl Georg Büchner
Georg Buchner
Wealthy
Sunday
Long
Life
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Peace to the shacks! War on the palaces!
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Only one thing abides: an infinite beauty that passes from form to form, eternally changed and revealed afresh.
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The strides of humanity are slow, they can only be counted in centuries.
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Dying people often become childish.
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The breath of an aristocrat is the death rattle of freedom.
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Supreme power rests in the will of all or of the majority.
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A good man with a good conscience doesn't walk so fast.
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You women could make someone fall in love even with a lie.
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The revolutionary government is the despotism of liberty against tyranny
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Whoever finishes a revolution only halfway, digs his own grave.
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Murder begins where self-defense ends.
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The world is chaos. Nothingness is the yet-to-be-born god of the world.
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People like us are unhappy in this world and in the next, I guess if we made it to heaven, we'd have to help make it thunder.
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The revolution must end and the republic must begin. In our constitution, right must take the place of duty, welfare that of virtue, and self-defense that of punishment. Everyone must be able to prevail and to live according to one's own nature.
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The state is therefore everyone the rules within the state are laws which safeguard the welfare of all and which must originate from the welfare of all.
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Death is the most blessed dream.
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Love is a peculiar thing.
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Revolution is like the daughters of Pelias: it cuts humanity to pieces in order to rejuvenate it.
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Do you know, Valerio, that even the least among all humans is so great that life is far too short to love him?
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And for tired eyes every light is too bright, and for tired lips every breath too heavy, and for tired ears every word too much.
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