There is no road, the road is made by walking.

Wherever learning breeds specialists, the sum of human culture is enhanced thereby. That is the illusion and consolation of specialists.

Man's passion for truth is such that he will welcome the bitterest of all postulates so long as it strikes him as true.

The wind, one brilliant day, called to my soul with an odor of jasmine. "In return for the odor of my jasmine, I'd like all the odor of your roses." "I have no roses; all the flowers in my garden are dead." "Well then, I'll take the withered petals and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain." the wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself: "What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?

At the very smallest wheel of our reasoning it is possible for a handful of questions to break the bank of our answers.

The absence of vices adds so little to the sum of one's virtues.

Man would be "otherwise." That's the essence of the specifically human.