In those days it was possible for a Greek to flee from an over-abundant reality as though it were but the tricky scheming off the imagination-and to flee, not like Plato into the land of eternal ideas, into the workshop off the world-creator, feasting one's eyes on the unblemished unbreakable archetypes, but into the rigor mortis off the coldest emptiest concept off all, the concept of being.

To our strongest impulse, to the tyrant in us, not only our reason but also our conscience yields.

Every past is worth condemning.

One lives for the day, one lives very fast, one lives very irresponsibly: precisely this is called "freedom."

To one who is accustomed to thinking a lot, every new thought that he hears or reads about immediately appears as a link in a chain.

And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.

The higher culture an individual attains, the less field there is left for mockery and scorn.