In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping our place.

The final mystery is oneself. When one has weighed the sun in the balance, and measured the steps of the moon, and mapped out the seven heavens star by star, there still remains oneself. Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul?

The nuisance of the intellectual sphere is the man who is so occupied in trying to educate others, that he has never had any time to educate himself

To realise one's nature perfectly—that is what each of us is here for.

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask and he'll tell you the truth