The bottomless bitter misery of childhood: how little even now it is understood. Probably no adult misery can be compared with a child's despair.

Love is the perception of individuals. Love is the extremely difficult realisation that something other than oneself is real.

Every human soul has seen, perhaps before their birth, pure forms such as justice, temperance, beauty and all the great moral qualities which we hold in honour. We are moved towards what is good by the faint memory of these forms, simple and calm and blessed, which we saw once in a pure, clear light, being pure ourselves.

Daytime sleep is a cursed slumber from which one wakes in despair.

There is no triumph of good, and if there were it would not be a triumph of good.

Freedom may be a value in politics, but it is not a value in morals.

As we live our precarious lives on the brink of the void, constantly coming closer to a state of nonbeing, we are all too often aware of our fragitlity.