History Is A Blood-drenched Enigma And The

"you Cannot Believe What You Are Saying." "well, No. Hardly Ever. But The Philosopher Is Like The Poet. The Latter Composes Ideal Letters For An Ideal Nymph, Only To Plumb With His Words The Depths Of Passion. The Philosopher Tests The Coldness Of His Gaze, To See How Far He Can Undermine The Fortress Of Bigotry."

I Consider Always The Adult Life To Be The Continuous Retrieval Of Childhood.

There Is Only One Thing That You Write For Yourself, And That Is A Shopping List.

Even Today, I Frequently Meet Scientists Who, Outside Their Own Narrow Discipline, Are Superstitious.

The Only Truth Lies In Learning To Free Ourselves From Insane Passion For The Truth.