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.

He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.

I still live, I still think: I still have to live, for I still have to think.

Perhaps I know best why it is man alone who laughs; he alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter.

Is man one of God's blunders? Or is God one of man's blunders?

The earth, said he, has a skin, and this skin has diseases. One of these diseases, for example, is called man.