For the world is Hell, and men are on the one hand the tormented souls and on the other the devils in it.

Anyone can squash a bug but all professors of this world couldn't build one.

Do not shorten the morning by getting up late, or waste it in unworthy occupations or in talk; look upon it as the quintessence of life, as to a certain extent sacred. Evening is like old age: we are languid, talkative, silly. Each day is a little life: every waking and rising a little birth, every fresh morning a little youth, every going to rest and sleep a little death.

Animals hear about death for the first time when they die.

When you look back on your life, it looks as though it were a plot, but when you are into it, it's a mess: just one surprise after another. Then, later, you see it was perfect.

Whatever torch we kindle, and whatever space it may illuminate, our horizon will always remain encircled by the depth of night.

I owe what is best in my own development to the impression made by Kant's works, the sacred writings of the Hindus, and Plato.