If I shall exist eternally, how shall I exist tomorrow?

By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired.

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.

A stair not worn hollow by footsteps is, regarded from its own point of view, only a boring something made of wood.

Books are a narcotic

In argument similes are like songs in love; they describe much, but prove nothing.