Describe a circle, stroke its back and it turns vicious.

Explanation separates us from astonishment, which is the only gateway to the incomprehensible.

People always try to find base motives behind every good action. We are afraid of pure goodness and of pure evil.

Childhood is the world of miracle and wonder; as if creation rose, bathed in the light, out of the darkness, utterly new and fresh and astonishing. The end of childhood is when things cease to astonish us.

For me, it is as though at every moment the actual world had completely lost its actuality. As though there was nothing there; asthough there were no foundations for anything or as though it escaped us. Only one thing, however, is vividly present: the constant tearing of the veil of appearances; the constant destruction of everything in construction. Nothing holds together, everything falls apart.

Dreams are reality at its most profound, and what you invent is truth because invention, by its nature, can't be a lie.

All cats die. Socrates is dead. Therefore Socrates is a cat.