The greater part of all the mischief in the world arises from the fact that men do not sufficiently understand their own aims.

They teach in academies far too many things, and far too much that is useless.

Woe to him who would ascribe something like reason to Chance, and make a religion of surrendering to it.

The universal subjugator, the commonplace.

Man would not be the finest creature in the world if he were not too fine for it.

Pity on the person who has become accustomed to seeing in necessity something arbitrary, who ascribes to the arbitrary some sort of reason, and even claims that following that sort of reason has religious value.

Thou art in the end what thou art. Put on wigs with millions of curls, set thy foot upon ell-high rocks. Thou abidest ever--what thou art.