Drawn from his works, letters, and conversations, this is an anthology of Johann von Goethe's best thoughts on the art of worldly wisdom, and instructs us on how to live our life more intentionally and more beautifully.

From Chapter 7: Society

Whatever a man may take up and pursue, he cannot manage as a lone individual; society remains a capable man's highest need. All useful men should stand in relation to one another, as the builder looks to the architect, and the latter to the mason and the carpenter.

While people may often agree on goals, they agree much less on the means to attain them. For any truly great ideal raises us above ourselves and lights us on our way like a star. But when it comes to choosing the means, we are recalled to ourselves, and then the individual reverts to exactly what he was before, and feels just as isolated as if he had not previously joined in the whole.

Certain things may sound tolerable when spoken, especially on beautiful lips, but set down in black and white, they lose all charm for me. An impudent remark is peculiar in that it amuses at the moment because one is taken aback, but if repeated later, it sounds merely offensive.

I now get along tolerably well with other people and I have learned the art of treating them with candor.

The question to ask is not whether we are perfectly agreed, but whether we are proceeding from a common basis of sentiment.

No one would say much in company if we only knew how often we misunderstand others.

One tends to think people are more dangerous than they are.

"Good fortune to you." I should sometimes like to answer them with "Good sense to you," for sense is better than fortune.

To make a long speech in the presence of others without flattering your audience, is to arouse dislike.

Contradiction and flattery make, both of them, bad conversation.

The pleasantest society is that in which there exists a genial deference amongst the members one towards another.

The pressure of business is very good for the soul. After it has discharged its task the soul moves with greater ease and enjoys life. There is nothing more wretched than well-being without work. This is enough to make the finest of nature's gifts turn sour.

If you are honest, you must admit that the urge towards a life of business proceeds entirely from external factors, whereas your inner desires are directed toward the development and perfection of your predisposition, both bodily and mental, toward what is good and beautiful.

The idea of personal freedom—from which comes much excellence, but also much absurdity.

It is always a sign that a time is unproductive when it goes so much into technical minutiae; and thus also it is a sign that an individual is unproductive when he occupies himself in like a manner.

Authority, meaning that in the past something has happened, been said, or been decided, has great worth. But only the pedant would demand authority all the time.

Why are we moderns so distracted, why do we let ourselves be challenged by problems which we can neither face nor solve?

What government is the best? That which teaches us to govern ourselves.

It is better for you to suffer injustice than for the world to be without law. Therefore let everyone submit to the law.

As life draws us on, we think we are acting of our own free will, choosing our activities and amusements, but really, if we look more closely, we are simply obliged to follow the pitch, the inclination of our time.

National hatred is something peculiar. You will always find it strongest and most violent where there is the lowest degree of culture. But there is a degree where it vanishes altogether, and where a person stands to a certain extent above nations, and feels the weal or woe of a neighboring people as if it had happened to his own.

In great undertakings as in great dangers, frivolity must be banished.

The louder the uproar of the streets, the quieter I become.

Spiritual pride, the worst and most obdurate of all the sins.

Believe me, a people does not become mature or wise, a people always remains childish.

Profound and serious thinkers are not in good odor with the public.

What would be the use of culture if we did not try to control our natural tendencies?

Wherein does barbarism consist, unless in not appreciating what is excellent!

Just to come into a clean house is a pleasure in itself, even though it be lacking in taste and over-ornate, for it does at least show the presence of one aspect of a cultured owner.

For someone who is deeply concerned about how infinitely complicated the operations of nature and art must be to produce a cultured human being, and himself has done all he can to educate his fellowmen, it is enough to make one despair, when one sees how wantonly a person can destroy himself, or be destroyed with or without being responsible.

As long as the world lasts, everyone, at least on the surface, must practice self-control in order to be sociable.

When did you last talk about recent and past history and compare the different centuries and their people? And what has happened to all the pretty poems that the girls often brought for our enjoyment? Or our speculative philosophical discussions? Do you no longer enjoy a country walk to return with an unusual rock or plant or some strange insect, all of which would lead to pleasant reflections on the grand unity of all creatures? Once this happened spontaneously; but now we must enforce it on ourselves intentionally, as a rule. Try as hard as you can to be interesting, useful, and above all sociable! And we must keep to this even if everything else in the world falls apart; indeed, then we will need it more than we do now.

Morality leads us to respect ourselves; good manners require us to value others.

It would not be a bad thing if the future manual of good manners, after telling how to act in company while eating and drinking, were to contain a rather detailed chapter on how to behave in art collections and museums.

What we call good manners has the purpose of achieving what would otherwise only be attained by force, or not even by that.

Knowing how to behave with women is the very basis of good manners.

Behavior is a mirror in which everyone shows his own face.

A familiar in the place of a respectful demeanor is always ridiculous.

Our relations are far too artificial and complicated, our nutriment and mode of life are unnatural, and our social intercourse is without proper love and good will. Everyone is polished and courteous; but nobody has the courage to be hearty and true; so that an honest man, with natural views and feelings, stands in a very bad position.

What makes news attractive? Not its importance, not its consequences, but its novelty. Mostly what is new appears important, because without a clear context it arouses amazement, momentarily stirs our imagination, just grazes our emotions, and requires no mental effort whatever. Everyone can take a lively interest in such new things without the least trouble to himself. Indeed, since a series of news items continually pulls us from one subject to the next, most people find nothing more pleasant than this stimulus to ceaseless diversion, this convenient and never-ending opportunity to vent their malice and spleen.

How little accepted tradition is to be trusted.

I met, not only art dealers, but also the kind of literate who go about in soutanes. Conversations with them were wearisome. The moment one started talking about their national poetry, hoping for information on some point or other, one could count on being asked which poet one considered the greatest–Ariosto or Tasso. If one gave the sensible answer and said that we should be grateful to God and Nature for having granted to one nation two such great men who have both, in their different ways, given us such beautiful moments of comfort and delight, one satisfied nobody. Whichever of the two they had decided to prefer, they extolled to the skies and dismissed the other as being beneath contempt. At first I would try to defend the rejected one by pointing out his merits, but this had not the slightest effect. They had taken sides and therefore they stuck to their opinion. This happened again and again, and since I felt too seriously about the matter to enter into dialectical controversy, I avoided conversations of this kind, especially when I realized that they had no real interest in poetry and that their pronouncements were mere empty phrases.