I Am Not Bigoted Enough For A

The Various Languages Placed Side By Side Show That With Words It Is Never A Question Of Truth, Never A Question Of Adequate Expression; Otherwise, There Would Not Be So Many Languages. The 'thing In Itself' (which Is Precisely What The Pure Truth, Apart From Any Of Its Consequences, Would Be) Is Likewise Something Quite Incomprehensible To The Creator Of Language And Something Not In The Least Worth Striving For.

Since Copernicus, Man Seems To Have Got Himself On An Inclined Plane-now He Is Slipping Faster And Faster Away From The Center Into-what? Into Nothingness? Into A 'penetrating Sense Of His Nothingness?' ... All Science, Natural As Well As Unnatural-which Is What I Call The Self-critique Of Knowledge-has At Present The Object Of Dissuading Man From His Former Respect For Himself, As If This Had Been But A Piece Of Bizarre Conceit.

We Have To Learn How To Come Out Of Unclean Situations Cleaner Than We Were, And Even How To Wash Ourselves With Dirty Water Whenwe Need To.

Robinson Had A Servant Even Better Than Friday: His Name Was Crusoe.

Behind All Their Personal Vanity, Women Themselves Always Have An Impersonal Contempt For Woman.