I call Christianity the one great curse, the one great intrinsic depravity, and the one great instinct of revenge, for which no means are venomous enough, or secret, subterranean and small enough - I call it the one immortal blemish on the human race.

Words are but symbols for the relations of things to one another and to us; nowhere do they touch upon absolute truth... Through words and concepts we shall never reach beyond the wall off relations, to some sort of fabulous primal ground of things.

If you want me to believe in your redeemer, you are going to have to look a lot more redeemed.

I fear that, with our current veneration for the natural and the real, we have arrived at the opposite pole to all idealism, and have landed in the region of the waxworks.

Every fact and every work exercises a fresh persuasion over every age and every new species of man. History always enunciates new truths.

Every past is worth condemning.

We are so fond of being out among nature, because it has no opinions about us.