We have art in order not to die of the truth.

War has always been the grand sagacity of every spirit which has grown too inward and too profound; its curative power lies even in the wounds one receives.

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

All credibility, all good conscience, all evidence of truth come only from the senses.

Mystical explanations are thought to be deep; the truth is that they are not even shallow.

The word “Christianity” is already a misunderstanding – in reality there has been only one Christian, and he died on the Cross.

When one has a great deal to put into it a day has a hundred pockets.

Not when truth is dirty, but when it is shallow, does the enlightened man dislike to wade into its waters.

You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.

When one does away with oneself one does the most estimable thing possible: one thereby almost deserves to live.