Botanists From Denmark

"However high a mortal may set his throne, however firmly he may place upon his brow the tiara of exception that signifies genius, he can never be perfectly sure that he may not some day, like , be seized with the strange desire to go on all-fours and eat grass with the meanest beasts of the field."

"... Man's love is a course of drill. And we submit to it; even those whom no one loves submit—contemptible weaklings that we are!" She rose from her recumbent position and looked threateningly across at Niels. "If I were beautiful—oh, I mean bewitchingly beautiful, lovelier than any woman that ever lived, so that all who saw me were smitten, as if by magic, with the anguish of unquenchable love—how I should compel them by the power of my beauty to adore, not their traditional, bloodless ideal, but me, myself, as I lived and moved, every single inch of me, every corner of my being and every spark of my nature!"

"There is no God, and man is His prophet," said Niels bitterly, but with a touch of sadness. "Yes, exactly!" jeered Hjerrild; a moment afterwards he said, "Yet atheism is exceedingly modest in its claims, for its object is really nothing or less than to disillusion mankind. The belief in a God who guides and judges is man's last great illusion, and when this is gone—what then? He will be wiser; but richer, happier? I do not see it."

"Among Noah's sons was one who covered the shame of his father, but the Hegelians are still tearing away the cloak which time and oblivion had sympathetically thrown over the shame of their Master."