A few hours of mountain climbing make a blackguard and a saint two rather similar creatures.

One loves ultimately one's desires, not the thing desired.

A refined soul is distressed to know that someone owes it thanks; a crude soul, to know that it owes someone thanks.

Whoever feels predestined to see and not to believe will find all believers too noisy and pushy: he guards against them.

Every characteristic absence of spirituality, every piece of common vulgarity, is due to an inability to resist a stimulus - you have to react, you follow every impulse.

One does not kill by anger but by laughter.

There is no pre-established harmony between the furtherance of truth and the well-being of mankind.