Interfere with the reality of my world, and you therefore take the very life and heart out of my will.

Memory and hope constantly incite us to the extensions of the self which play so large a part in our daily life.

The unique eludes us; yet we remain faithful to the ideal of it; and in spite of sense and of our merely abstract thinking, it becomes for us the most real thing in the actual world, although for us it is the elusive goal of an infinite quest.

I never felt a feeling that I knew or could know to be unlike the feelings of other people. I never consciously thought, except after patterns that the world or my fellows set for me.

We seek true individuality and the true individuals. But we find them not. For lo, we mortals see what our poor eyes can see; and they, the true individuals, - they belong not to this world of our merely human sense and thought.

Life involves passions, faiths, doubts, and courage.

So, as one sees, I by no means deprive my world of stubborn reality, if I merely call it a world of ideas.