He who cannot obey himself will be commanded. That is the nature of living creatures.

What do we have in common with the rosebud, which trembles because a drop of dew lies on its body?

Gradually it has become clear to me what every great philosophy so far has been: namely, the personal confession of its author and a kind of involuntary and unconscious memoir.

No one is such a liar as the indignant man.

Books for all the world are always foul-smelling books: the smell of small people clings to them.

His (the theologian) basic instinct of self preservation forbids him to respect reality at any point or even to let it get a word in.

The surest aid in combating the male's disease of self-contempt is to be loved by a clever woman.