Culture is on the horns of this dilemma: if profound and noble it must remain rare, if common it must become mean.

The line between what is known scientifically and what has to be assumed in order to support knowledge is impossible to draw. Memory itself is an internal rumour.

Civilization is perhaps approaching one of those long winters that overtake it from time to time. Romantic Christendom - picturesque, passionate, unhappy episode - may be coming to an end. Such a catastrophe would be no reason for despair.

The soul, too has her virginity and must bleed a little before bearing fruit.

Experience seems to most of us to lead to conclusions, but empiricism has sworn never to draw them.

Philosophy is a more intense sort of experience than common life is, just as pure and subtle music, heard in retirement, is something keener and more intense than the howling of storms or the rumble of cities.

One's friends are that part of the human race with which one can be human.