The Teutons have been singing the swan song ever since they entered the ranks of history. They have always confounded truth with death.

Any genuine philosophy leads to action and from action back again to wonder, to the enduring fact of mystery.

The legal system is often a mystery, and we, its priests, preside over rituals baffling to everyday citizens.

There is nothing in itself which is wrong or evil not even murder.

Sin, guilt, neurosis; they are one and the same, the fruit of the tree of knowledge.

No, there's fifteen francs somewhere, which nobody gives a damn about anymore and which nobody is going to get in the end anyhow, but the fifteen francs is like the primal cause of things and rather than listen to one's own voice, rather than walk out on the primal cause, one surrenders to the situation, one goes on butchering and butchering and the more cowardly one feels the more heroically does he behave, until a day when the bottom drops out and suddenly all the guns are silenced and the stretcher-bearers pick up the maimed and bleeding heroes and pin medals on their chest.

Art is only a means to life, the life more abundant. It merely points the way.