I Believe Nothing Of My Own That

I Shut The Front Door Upon Christ And Einstein, And At The Back Door Hold Out A Welcoming Hand To Little Frogs And Periwinkles. I Believe Nothing Of My Own That I Have Ever Written. I Cannot Accept That The Products Of Minds Are Subject-matter For Beliefs.

All Would Be Well. All Would Be Heavenly--if The Damned Would Only Stay Damned.

But Truth Is That Besides Which There Is Nothing: Nothing To Modify It, Nothing To Question It, Nothing To Form An Exception: The All-inclusive, The Complete - By Truth, I Mean The Universal.

My Liveliest Interest Is Not So Much In Things, As In Relations Of Things. I Have Spent Much Time Thinking About The Alleged Pseudo-relations That Are Called Coincidences. What If Some Of Them Should Not Be Coincidences?

Do You Want Power Over Something? Be More Nearly Real Than It.