Nature Does Not Deceive Or Conceal, But

It Is My Mind, With Its Store Of Images, That Gives The World Colour And Sound; And That Supremely Real And Rational Certainty Which I Call "experience" Is, In Its Most Simple Form, An Exceedingly Complicated Structure Of Mental Images. Thus There Is, In A Certain Sense, Nothing That Is Directly Experienced Except The Mind Itself. Everything Is Mediated Through The Mind.

I Could Well Imagine That I Might Have Lived In Former Centuries And There Encountered Questions I Was Not Yet Able To Answer; That I Had Been Born Again Because I Had Not Fulfilled The Task Given To Me.

Dreams Are Impartial, Spontaneous Products Of The Unconscious Psyche, Outside The Control Of The Will. They Are Pure Nature; They Show Us The Unvarnished, Natural Truth, And Are Therefore Fitted, As Nothing Else Is, To Give Us Back An Attitude That Accords With Our Basic Human Nature When Our Consciousness Has Strayed Too Far From Its Foundations And Run Into An Impasse.

Our Souls As Well As Our Bodies Are Composed Of Individual Elements Which Were All Already Present In The Ranks Of Our Ancestors. The "newness" In The Individual Psyche Is An Endlessly Varied Recombination Of Age-old Components.

The Maintenance Of Secrets Acts Like A Psychic Poison Which Alienates The Possessor From The Community.