I have the true feeling of myself only when I am unbearably unhappy.

If it had been possible to build the Tower of Babel without climbing it, it would have been permitted.

The limited circle is pure.

Life's splendor forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from view, deep down, invisible, far off. It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come.

The true way goes over a line that, rather than spanning heights, is hardly above the ground. It appears more decidedly to make one trip than to be walked along.

Writing [is] a form of prayer.

A man of action forced into a state of thought is unhappy until he can get out of it.