What Tarquin the Proud said in his garden with the poppy blooms was understood by the son but not by the messenger.

Being, belief and reason are pure relations, which cannot be dealt with absolutely, and are not things but pure scholastic concepts, signs for understanding, not for worshipping, aids to awaken our attention, not to fetter it.

What for others is style, for me is soul.

Thus the public use of reason and freedom is nothing but a dessert, a sumptuous dessert.

Everything is vain and tortures the spirit instead of calming and satisfying it.

Physics is nothing but the ABC's. Nature is an equation with an unknown, a Hebrew word which is written only with consonants to which reason has to add the dots.

The farther reason looks the greater is the haze in which it loses itself.