A man who keeps company with glaciers comes to feel tolerably insignificant by and by.

The man who sees little always sees less than there is to see; the man who hears badly always hears something more than there is to hear.

Why does man not see things? He is himself standing in the way: he conceals things.

As a blind man has no idea of colors, so have we no idea of the manner by which the all-wise God perceives and understands all things.

One may certainly admire man as a mighty genius of construction, who succeeds in piling an infinitely complicated dome of concepts upon an unstable foundation, and, as it were, on running water.

Everything which distinguishes man from the animals depends upon this ability to volatilize perceptual metaphors in a schema, and thus to dissolve an image into a concept.