We can regard our life as a uselessly disturbing episode in the blissful repose of nothingness.

Will minus intellect constitutes vulgarity.

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.

The animal lacks both anxiety and hope because its consciousness is restricted to what is clearly evident and thus to the present moment: the animal is the present incarnate.

A hedge between keeps friendship green.

Obstinacy is the result of the will forcing itself into the place of the intellect.

If a man sets out to hate all the miserable creatures he meets, he will not have much energy left for anything else; whereas he can despise them, one and all, with the greatest ease.