Wherever there is a crowd there is untruth.

You train yourself in the art of being mysterious to everyone. My dear friend! What if there were no one, who cared about guessing your riddle, what pleasure would you then take in it?

What a misfortune to be a woman! And yet, the worst misfortune is not to understand what a misfortune it is.

The unhappy person is never present to themself because they always live in the past or the future.

What I really need is to get clear out about what I must do, not what I must know, except insofar as knowledge precedes every act.

Death induces the sensual person to say: Let us eat and drink, because tomorrow we shall die - but this is sensuality's cowardly lust for life, that contemptible order of things where one lives in order to eat and drink instead of eating and drinking in order to live.

Only one deception is possible in the infinite sense, self-deception.