If you want to penetrate into the heart of physics, then let yourself be initiated into the mysteries of poetry.

Wit is an explosion of the compound spirit.

Religion is absolutely unfathomable. Always and everywhere one can dig more deeply into infinities.

Some speak of the public as if it were someone with whom they have had dinner at the Leipzig Fair in the Hotel de Saxe. Who is this public? The public is not a thing, but rather an idea, a postulate, like the Church.

Considered subjectively, philosophy always begins in the middle, like an epic poem.

The naive is what is or appears to be natural, individual, or classical to the point of irony or to the point of continuous alternation of self-creation and self-destruction. If it is only instinct, then it is childlike, childish, or silly; if it is only intention, it becomes affectation.

With respect to ingenious subconsciousness, I think, philosophers might well rival poets.