I Am More And More Convinced That

It Is An Absolutely Vain Endeavor To Attempt To Reconstruct Or Even Comprehend The Nature Of A Human Being By Simply Knowing The Forces Which Have Acted Upon Him. However Deeply We Should Like To Penetrate, However Close We Seem To Be Drawing To Truth, One Unknown Quantity Eludes Us: Man's Primordial Energy, His Original Self, That Personality Which Was Given Him With The Gift Of Life Itself. On It Rests Man's True Freedom; It Alone Determines His Real Character.

A Man Must Seek His Happiness And Inward Peace From Objects Which Cannot Be Taken Away From Him.

If The Mind Loves Solitude, It Has Thereby Acquired A Loftier Character, And It Becomes Still More Noble When The Taste Is Indulged In.

If We Reason That We Want Happiness For Others, Not For Ourselves, Then We Ought Justly To Be Suspected Of Failing To Recognize Human Nature For What It Is And Of Wishing To Turn Men Into Machines.

Absolutely Nothing Is So Important For A Nation's Culture As Its Language.