In reality, the past is preserved by itself automatically.

Instinct perfected is a faculty of using and even constructing organized instruments; intelligence perfected is the faculty of making and using unorganized instruments.

In laughter we always find an unavowed intention to humiliate and consequently to correct our neighbour.

The present contains nothing more than the past, and what is found in the effect was already in the cause.

Intuition is a method of feeling one's way intellectually into the inner heart of a thing to locate what is unique and inexpressible in it.

All the translations of a poem in all possible languages may add nuance to nuance and, by a kind of mutual retouching, by correcting one another, may give an increasingly faithful picture of the poem they translate, yet they will never give the inner meaning of the original.

... divine love is not something belonging to God: it is God Himself.