The Real Is The Rational And The

Not Curiosity, Not Vanity, Not The Consideration Of Expediency, Not Duty And Conscientiousness, But An Unquenchable, Unhappy Thirst That Brooks No Compromise Leads Us To Truth.

The Proofs Of The Existence Of God Are To Such An Extent Fallen Into Discredit That They Pass For Something Antiquated, Belonging To Days Gone By.

It Is A Matter Of Perfect Indifference Where A Thing Originated; The Only Question Is: Is It True In And For Itself?

The Force Of Mind Is Only As Great As Its Expression; Its Depth Only As Deep As Its Power To Expand And Lose Itself.

The Evident Character Of This Defective Cognition Of Which Mathematics Is Proud, And On Which It Plumes Itself Before Philosophy, Rests Solely On The Poverty Of Its Purpose And The Defectiveness Of Its Stuff, And Is Therefore Of A Kind That Philosophy Must Spurn