A plant needs roots in order to grow. With man it is the other way around: only when he grows does he have roots and feels at home in the world.

A man by himself is in bad company.

No matter what our achievements might be, we think well of ourselves only in rare moments. We need people to bear witness against our inner judge, who keeps book on our shortcomings and transgressions. We need people to convince us that we are not as bad as we think we are.

The game of history is usually played by the best and the worst over the heads of the majority in the middle.

Unless a man has talents to make something of himself, freedom is an irksome burden. Of what avail is freedom to choose if the self be ineffectual? We join a mass movement to escape individual responsibility, or, in the words of the ardent young Nazi, "to be free from freedom."

All great art is revolutionary because it touches upon the reality of man and questions the reality of the various transitory forms of human society.

It is a strange thing that both the injurer and the injured, the sinner and he who is sinned against, should find in the mass movement an escape from a blemished life.