Knut Hamsun

“However, I must not indulge in homespun wisdom here before so distinguished an assembly, especially as I am to be followed by a representative of science.”

“But what really matters is not what you believe but the faith and conviction with which you believe…”

“The poet must always, in every instance, have the vibrant word... that by it's trenchancy can so wound my soul that it whimpers.... One must know and recognize not merely the direct but the secret power of the word; one must be able to give one's writing unexpected effects. It must have a hectic, anguished vehemence, so that it rushes past like a gust of air, and it must have a latent, roistering tenderness so that it creeps and steals one's mind; it must be able to ring out like a sea-shanty in a tremendous hour, in the time of the tempest, and it must be able to sigh like one who, in tearful mood, sobs in his inmost heart.”

“Were I more conversant with literature and its great names, I could go on quoting them ad infinitum and acknowledge my debt for the merit you have been generous enough to find in my work.”

“You are welcome to your intellectual pastimes and books and art and newspapers; welcome, too, to your bars and your whisky that only makes me ill. Here am I in the forest, quite content.”

“There is nothing like being left alone again, to walk peacefully with oneself in the woods. To boil one's coffee and fill one's pipe, and to think idly and slowly as one does it.”

“No worse fate can befall a young man or woman than becoming prematurely entrenched in prudence and negation.”

“When good befalls a man he calls it Providence, when evil fate.”

“It was not my intention to collapse; no, I would die standing.”

“They walked away from the sea, Rolandsen in the lead. He kept to the edge of the road, in the snow, to leave room for the others. He was wearing light, fashionable shoes, but seemed unperturbed; he even had his coat unbuttoned in the chilly May wind. ’So that’s the church!’ said the curate. ’It looks old. I don’t suppose there’s a stove in it?’ asked his wife. ’I couldn’t say,’ Rolandsen replied, ’but I don’t think so.”