Life is in ourselves and not in the external.
Life had stepped into the place of theory.
But man is a fickle and disreputable creature and perhaps, like a chess-player, is interested in the process of attaining his goal rather than the goal itself.
I cannot understand why the world is arranged as it is.
I feel pity for him, and that is a poor sign of love.
What is most vile and despicable about money is that it even confers talent. And it will do so until the end of the world.