To become properly acquainted with a truth, we must first have disbelieved it, and disputed against it.

I often feel, and ever more deeply I realize, that fate and character are the same conception.

Nature is a petrified magic city.

A certain degree of solitude seems necessary to the full growth and spread of the highest mind; and therefore must a very extensive intercourse with men stifle many a holy germ, and scare away the gods, who shun the restless tumult of noisy companies and the discussion of petty interests.

When one begins to reflect on philosophy—then philosophy seems to us to be everything, like God, and love. It is a mystical, highly potent, penetrating idea—which ceaselessly drives us inward in all directions. The decision to do philosophy—to seek philosophy is the act of self-liberation—the thrust toward ourselves.

You are alone with everything you love.

Nature is an aeolian harp, a musical instrument whose tones are the re-echo of higher strings within us.