The Drive Toward Knowledge Has A Moral

Happiness: Being Able To Forget Or, To Express In A More Learned Fashion.

There Are Instances When We Are Like Horses, We Psychologists, And Grow Restless: We See Our Own Shadow Wavering Up And Down Before Us. A Psychologist Must Look Away From Himself In Order To See Anything At All.

The Poison By Which The Weaker Nature Is Destroyed Is Strengthening To The Strong Individual And He Does Not Call It Poison.

Rational Thought Is Interpretation According To A Scheme Which We Cannot Escape.

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.