In the fight between you and the world, back the world.
Hiding places there are innumerable, escape is only one, but possibilities of escape, again, are as many as hiding places.
How can one take delight in the world unless one flees to it for refuge?
How pathetically scanty my self-knowledge is compared with, say, my knowledge of my room. There is no such thing as observation of the inner world, as there is of the outer world.
I do not read advertisements. I would spend all of my time wanting things.
I have the true feeling of myself only when I am unbearably unhappy.
Idleness is the beginning of all vice, the crown of all virtues.
If I shall exist eternally, how shall I exist tomorrow?
If there is a transmigration of souls then I am not yet on the bottom rung. My life is a hesitation before birth.
In argument similes are like songs in love; they describe much, but prove nothing.
In the struggle between yourself and the world second the world.
May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window and kiss the night air.
Martyrs do not underrate the body, they allow it to be elevated on the cross. In this they are at one with their antagonists.
Let me remind you of the old maxim: people under suspicion are better moving than at rest, since at rest they may be sitting in the balance without knowing it, being weighed together with their sins.
It is only our conception of time that makes us call the Last Judgement by this name. It is, in fact, a kind of martial law.