To grumble about the world and its unhappiness is always easier than to beat one's breast and groan over oneself.

I do not care for anything. I do not care to ride, for the exercise is too violent. I do not care to walk, walking is too strenuous. I do not care to lie down, for I should either have to remain lying, and I do not care to do that, or I should have to get up again, and I do not care to do that either. Summa summarum: I do not care at all.

To cheat oneself out of love is the most terrible deception; it is an eternal loss for which there is no reparation, either in time or in eternity.

No one may pride himself at being more than an individual, and no one despondently think that he is not an individual.

It seems to be my destiny to discourse on truth, insofar as I discover it, in such a way that all possible authority is simultaneously demolished.

Whoever has the world's treasures has them no matter how he got them. In the world of the spirit it is otherwise.

The question is asked in ignorance, by one who does not even know what can have led him to ask it.