The ignorant and the deluded are, I think, in a strange way to be envied. That which is not known of does not trouble us, while an imagined but insubstantial peril does not harm us. To know the truths behind reality is a far greater burden.

Memories and possibilities are even more hideous than realities.

There was really nothing for serious men to do in cases of wild gossip, for superstitious rustics will say and believe anything.

The process of delving into the black abyss is to me the keenest form of fascination.

In search of Truth the hopeful zealot goes,But all the sadder tums, the more he knows!

In its flawless grace and superior self-sufficiency I have seen a symbol of the perfect beauty and bland impersonality of the universe itself, objectively considered, and in its air of silent mystery there resides for me all the wonder and fascination of the unknown.

Toil without song is like a weary journey without an end.