It is one of the chief skills of the philosopher not to occupy himself with questions which do not concern him.

You get tragedy where the tree, instead of bending, breaks.

If anyone is unwilling to descend into himself, because this is too painful, he will remain superficial in his writing. . . If I perform to myself, then it’s this that the style expresses. And then the style cannot be my own. If you are unwilling to know what you are, your writing is a form of deceit.

Belief in the causal nexus is superstition.

If we were to imagine an orange on the blue side or green on the red side or violet on the yellow side, it would give us the same impression as a north wind coming from the southwest.

How hard I find it to see what is right in front of my eyes!

Our greatest stupidities may be very wise.