Consciousness is a singular for which there is no plural.

If you cannot - in the long run - tell everyone what you have been doing, your doing has been worthless.

If we were bees, ants, or Lacedaemonian| warriors, to whom personal fear does not exist and cowardice is the most shameful thing in the world, warring would go on forever. But luckily we are only men — and cowards.

Thus you can throw yourself flat on the ground, stretched out upon Mother Earth, with the certain conviction that you are one with her and she with you. You are as firmly established, as invulnerable as she, indeed a thousand times firmer and more invulnerable. As surely as she will engulf you tomorrow, so surely will she bring you forth anew to the new striving and suffering. And not merely "some day." Now, today, every day she is bringing you forth, not once but thousands upon thousands of times, just as every day she engulfs you a thousand times over.

No self is of itself alone.

An animal that embarks on forming states without greatly restricting egoism will perish.

For eternally and always there is only now, one and the same now; the present is the only thing that has no end.