“I’m a dreamer. I have to dream and reach for the stars, and if I miss a star then I grab a handful of clouds.”
“I think Machiavelli’s the most sophisticated writer outside of Shakespeare. Way ahead of his time. Such a manipulative person. Everything he accomplished he did by kissin’ ass.”
“My power is discombobulating devastating. I could feel his muscle tissues collapse under my force. It’s ludicrous these mortals even attempt to enter my realm.”
-From Heinrich Kreisel's The Castles of King Ludwig II of Bavaria
"New castles kept appearing in or near the mountains, each more enchanted, more fairy-like than the other. "The King is building" it was whispered, "building is life for him. The King loves the mountain and solitude, and he is building, building fairy castles."
"Like all inhabitants of dreamland, Ludwig II shunned the glare of day. His favourite planet was the moon; an artificial moon shed its light in his bedroom at Hohenschwangau; and the blue globe of the night lamp in Herrenchiemsee Palace was something similar... The King turned day into night, that is to say, he lived only in the night. Many colour effects in his Castles are unintelligible unless we realize that he saw everything only by candle-light. Artificial light was also the light of the theatre, which was a passion with the King, just because it was a world of illusion. Ludwig loved darkness, he hated the brilliant light that revealed him mercilessly to his surroundings. For he was a misanthrope, an eccentric; he did not live as a member of a community, but as an uninhibited individualist. Since he withdrew more and more into his own world of values and ideas, acknowledging no others, his loneliness was bound to increase."
"The King had other strange habits. He used to bow to certain trees; when he rode or drove past them, he would take off his hat to them and call them his "sacred trees"... There was a certain pillar in the hall of his Castle at Linderhof which he would touch, or even embrace, at his departure or on arrival."
"The King was seldom seen in the town, where he would turn up suddenly in the night like a resplendent vision, to disappear again; he lived in the country, in the mountains, in a milieu of hill farmers and woodsmen, unsophisticated people who loved and honoured their king as they found him... It is true that he was not a constitutional, bourgeois monarch, who looked like an ordinary man; he was a king from ancient legend; a king with a crown and velvet cloak, in a coach or sleigh of gold, with rites of his own that had to be kept secret from the common people. Thus, for the population of the country between the Alps and the lakes of Upper Bavaria he was an unreal, and therefore, a genuine king, a king from a fairy-tale."