History repeats itself. Historians repeat each other.
History repeats itself. That's one of the things wrong with history.
Sometimes the cry of the animal is worse than the animal itself.
Happiness itself does not stay -- only moments of happiness do.
Work improves the harvest better than the field itself.
Hell itself can be no worse than the road that leads to it.
Love born in the brain is more spirited, doubtless, than true love, but it has only flashes of enthusiasm; it knows itself too well, it criticizes itself incessantly; so far from banishing thought, it is itself reared only upon a structure of thought...
Man is simply the best chance we know of that matter has had of providing itself with information about itself.
The stories a society tells about itself are a measure of how it values itself, the ideals of democracy, and its future.
Therefore when the mind knows itself and loves itself, there remains a trinity, that is the mind, love and knowledge.
Shelley is truth itself and honour itself notwithstanding his out-of-the-way notions about religion.
A bird that allows itself to be caught will find a way of escaping.
A man who is afraid of suffering suffers from fear itself.
More festive than the feast itself is the day before.
Old age does not announce itself.
The present is a transitory existence which is made in order to be abolished: it retrieves itself only by transcending itself toward the permanence of future being; it is only as an instrument, as a means, it is only by it's efficacy with regard to t...
I remember a time when a cabbage could sell itself by being a cabbage. Nowadays it’s no good being a cabbage – unless you have an agent and pay him a commission. Nothing is free anymore to sell itself or give itself away. These days, Countess, ev...
Did my moral upbrining somehow turn against itself? If looking at someone with desire was as bad as satisfying the desire, if having an active fantasy was as bad as the act you were fantasizing- then why not the satisfaction and the act itself? As th...
Anything in any way beautiful derives its beauty from itself and asks nothing beyond itself. Praise is no part of it, for nothing is made worse or better by praise.
As the ego cogito, subjectivity is the consciousness that represents something, relates this representation back to itself, and so gathers with itself.
In song the same rule applies as in dramatic verse: the meaning must yield itself, or yield itself sufficiently to arouse the attention and interest, in real time.
