I ask of any God, of any gods, that if they give immortality, I hope to be granted oblivion also.

We accept reality so readily - perhaps because we sense that nothing is real.

His life, measured in space and time, will take up a mere few lines, which my ignorance will abbreviate further.

I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart, I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.

Like all those possessing a library, Aurelian was aware that he was guilty of not knowing his in its entirety.

Chang Tzu tells us of a persevering man who after three laborious years mastered the art of dragon-slaying. For the rest of his days, he had not a single opportunity to test his skills.

You will reply that reality hasn't the slightest need to be of interest. And I'll answer you that reality may avoid the obligation to be interesting, but that hypotheses may not. In the hypothesis you have postulated, chance intervenes largely. Here lies a dead rabbi; I should prefer a purely rabbinical explanation; not the imaginary mischances of an imaginary robber.