Every relationship of man to the infinite is religion, namely of a man in the full abundance of his humanity. Whenever a mathematician calculates infinity, that, to be sure, is not religion. Infinity conceived in this abundance is the Godhead.

When the author has no idea of what to reply to a critic, he then likes to say: you could not do it better anyway. This is the same as if a dogmatic philosopher reproached a skeptic for not being able to devise a system.

Combine the extremes, and you will have the true center.

Morality without a sense of paradox is mean.

There are writers in Germany who drink the Absolute like water; and there are books in which even the dogs make references to the Infinite.

Is it not superfluous to write more than one novel if the writer has not become, say, a new man? Obviously, all the novels of an author not infrequently belong together and are to a certain degree only one novel.

Every philosophical review ought to be a philosophy of reviews at the same time.