Behind all their personal vanity, women themselves always have an impersonal contempt for woman.

A soul which knows that it is loved, but does not itself love, betrays its sediment: its dregs come up.

Man wishes woman to be peaceable, but in fact she is essentially warlike, like the cat.

It is perhaps just dawning on five or six minds that physics, too, is only an interpretation and exegesis of the world (to suit us, if I may say so!) and not a world-explanation.

What is originality? To see something that has no name as yet and hence cannot be mentioned although it stares us all in the face. The way men usually are, it takes a name to make something visible for them.

A nation that still believes in itself holds fast to its own god.

And you tell me, friends, that there is no disputing taste and tasting? But all life is a dispute over taste and tasting!