“Analogies, it is true, decide nothing, but they can make one feel more at home.”
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The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it does not rest until it has gained a hearing.
The conscious mind may be compared to a fountain playing in the sun and falling back into the great subterranean pool of subconscious from which it rises.
We are never so defensless against suffering as when we love.
Man has, as it were, become a kind of prosthetic God. When he puts on all his auxiliary organs, he is truly magnificent but those organs have not grown on him and they still give him much trouble at times.
