Human life, like all inferior goods, is covered on the outside with a false glitter; what suffers always conceals itself.

Truth is no harlot who throws her arms round the neck of him who does not desire her; on the contrary, she is so coy a beauty that even the man who sacrifices everything to her can still not be certain of her favors.

Hence, in all countries the chief occupation of society is card-playing, and it is the gauge of its value, and an outward sign that it is bankrupt in thought. Because people have no thoughts to deal in, they deal cards, and try and win one another’s money. Idiots!

No one writes anything worth writing, unless he writes entirely for the sake of his subject.

All our wanting comes from needs, thus we continiously suffer. The intellect teaches free will, free from suffering.

Human life must be some form of mistake.

History is the long, difficult and confused dream of Mankind.