“Man dies constantly until the moment of his demise.”

Being the rational animal, man must be capable of thinking if he really wants to. Still, it may be that man wants to think, but cannot.

I know that everything essential and great originated from the fact that the human being had a homeland and was rooted in tradition.

Only a god can save us.

We do not have any clear, common and simple relation to reality and to ourselves. That is the big problem of the Western world.

Only he who already understands can listen.

Language is the house of Being.

To dwell is to garden.

The question of existence never gets straightened out except through existing itself.

Everything has always already been said. And yet this “same” possesses, as its inner truth, the inexhaustable wealth of what is on every day as if that day were its first.

Technology is therefore no mere means. Technology is a way of revealing.

The possible ranks higher than the actual.

All the poems of the poet who has entered into his poethood are poems of homecoming.

Nothing is everything that doesn’t happen at this very moment.

To say philosophy originates in wonder means philosophy is wondrous in its essence and becomes more wondrous the more it becomes what it really is.

Language speaks and not the human.

Technology is a mode of revealing. Technology comes to presence in the realm where revealing and unconcealment take place, where aletheia, truth, happens.

We have been dying since we got here and forgot to enjoy the view – live fully.

Life is a disease: sexually transmitted, and invariably fatal.

To study philosophy is nothing but to prepare one’s self to die.

Today, however, we are having a hard time living because we are so bent on outwitting death.

Death itself does not frighten me; it is the jump I am afraid of.

If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life – and only then will I be free to become myself.

The broken heart. You think you will die, but you just keep living, day after day after terrible day.

Life is occupied in both perpetuating itself and in surpassing itself; if all it does is maintain itself, then living is only not dying.