The recent past always presents itself as if destroyed by catastrophes.
Happiness is obsolete: uneconomic.
Truth is inseperable from the illusory belief that from the figures of the unreal one day, in spite of all, real deliverance will come.
The good man is he who rules himself as he does his own property: his autonomous being is modelled on material power.
Intelligence is a moral category.
In the abstract conception of universal wrong, all concrete responsibility vanishes.
Because thought has by now been perverted into the solving of assigned problems, even what is not assigned is processed like a problem.
Quality is decided by the depth at which the work incorporates the alternatives within itself, and so masters them.
He who has loved and who betrays love does harm not only to the image of the past, but to the past itself.
The almost insoluble task is to let neither the power of others, nor our own powerlessness, stupefy us.