Why is it that no other species but man gets bored? Under the circumstances in which a man gets bored, a dog goes to sleep.

What is the nature of the search? you ask. Really it is very simple, at least for a fellow like me; so simple that it is easily overlooked. The search is what anyone would undertake if he were not sunk in the everydayness of his own life. This morning, for example, I felt as if I had come to myself on a strange island.

You live in a deranged age, more deranged than usual because in spite of great scientific and technological advances, man has not the faintest idea of who he is or what he is doing.

Why is it that one can look at a lion or a planet or an owl or at someone's finger as long as one pleases, but looking into the eyes of another person is, if prolonged past a second, a perilous affair?

I couldn't stand it. I still can't stand it. I can't stand the way things are. I cannot tolerate this age.

Ignorance, if recognized, is often more fruitful than the appearance of knowledge.

Bad books always lie. They lie most of all about the human condition.