The Starry Vault Of Heaven Is In

Even A Happy Life Cannot Be Without A Measure Of Darkness, And The Word Happy Would Lose Its Meaning If It Were Not Balanced By Sadness. It Is Far Better Take Things As They Come Along With Patience And Equanimity.

It Is Often Tragic To See How Blatantly A Man Bungles His Own Life And The Lives Of Others Yet Remains Totally Incapable Of Seeing How Much The Whole Tragedy Originates In Himself, And How He Continually Feeds It And Keeps It Going. Not Consciously, Of Course—for Consciously He Is Engaged In Bewailing And Cursing A Faithless World That Recedes Further And Further Into The Distance. Rather, It Is An Unconscious Factor Which Spins The Illusions That Veil His World. And What Is Being Spun Is A Cocoon, Which In The End Will Completely Envelop Him.

Not Only Does The Psyche Exist, But It Is Existence Itself. It Is An Almost Absurd Prejudice To Suppose That Existence Can Only Be Physical...we Might Well Say, On The Contrary, That Physical Existence Is A Mere Inference, Since We Know Of Matter Only In So Far As We Perceive Psychic Images Mediated By The Senses.

An Inflated Consciousness Is Always Egocentric And Conscious Of Nothing But Its Own Existence. It Is Incapable Of Learning From The Past, Incapable Of Understanding Contemporary Events, And Incapable Of Drawing Right Conclusions About The Future. It Is Hypnotized By Itself And Therefore Cannot Be Argued With. It Inevitably Dooms Itself To Calamities That Must Strike It Dead.

A Man's Hatred Is Always Concentrated Upon That Which Makes Him Conscious Of His Bad Qualities.