Poetry is the mother-tongue of the human race.

Not only the entire ability to think rests on language... but language is also the crux of the misunderstanding of reason with itself.

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.

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.

All human wisdom works and has worries and grief as reward.

Few authors understand themselves, and a proper reader must not only understand his author but also be able to see beyond him.

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