we are such inward secret creatures, that inwardness the most amazing thing about us, even more amazing than our reason. but we cannot just walk into the cavern and look around. most of what we think we know about our minds is pseudo-knowledge. we are all such shocking poseurs, so good at inflating the importance of what we think we value.

Perhaps misguided moral passion is better than confused indifference.

The sin of pride may be a small or a great thing in someone's life, and hurt vanity a passing pinprick, or a self-destroying or ever murderous obsession.

Moralistic is not moral. And as for truth - well, it's like brown - it's not in the spectrum. Truth is so generic.

Remember that the secret of all learning is patience and that curiosity is not the same thing as a thirst for knowledge.

Real misery cuts off all paths to itself.

I just enjoy translating, it's like opening one's mouth and hearing someone else's voice emerge.