Intriguing Philosophy Quotes

I regret nothing. No woman with any self-respect would have done less. The question of good and evil will always be one of philosophy's most intriguing problems, up there with the problem of existence itself. I'm not quarreling with your choice of issues, only with your intellectually diminished approach. If evil means to be self-motivated, to live on one's own terms, then every artist, every thinker, every original mind, is evil. Because we dare to look through our own eyes rather than mouth cliches lent us from the so-called Fathers. To dare to see is to steal fire from the Gods. This is mankind's destiny, the engine which fuels us as a race.

Sometimes the complexities of the mind can be intriguing, but the dark side of one’s thoughts can create its own phobias.

Let that be as it will, thus much is certain, that, however spiritual intrigues begin, they generally conclude like all others; they may branch upward toward heaven, but the root is in the earth.

The question of good and the nature of evil will always be one of philosophy’s most intriguing problems, up there with the problem of existence itself. If evil means to be self-motivated, to be the center of one’s own universe, to live on one’s own terms, then every artist, thinker, every original mind, is evil. Because we dare to look through our own eyes rather than mouth clichés lent us from the so-called Fathers. To dare to see is to steal fire from the Gods. This is mankind’s destiny, the engine which fuels us as a race.

I have come to learn about things that intrigue people through their strangeness. But barley did I find myself in you presence than I understood that life is none other than the different manifestations of the universal spirit.

The creator created women to control those wild, uncontrollable, intriguing men.

This intriguing 'somewhere else,' where intelligence no longer matters and awareness melts away, commands us to cherish our remains of innocence -- because of all the characteristics of human nature, the richest by far is passion for the perfectly useless.

A fine statue of a naked Theseus stands proudly today in Athens' central place of assembly, the city's hub, Syntagma Square. Even today he is a focus of Athenian identity and pride. The ship he brought back from his adventures in the Labyrinth of Crete remained moored in the harbour at Piraeus, a visitor attraction right up to the days of historical ancient Athens, the time of Socrates and Aristotle. Its continuous presence there for such a long time caused the Ship of Theseus to become a subject of intriguing philosophical speculation. Over hundreds of years, its rigging, its planks, its hull, deck, keel, prow, stern and all its timbers had been replaced so that not one atom of the original remained. Could one call it the same ship? Am I the same person I was fifty years ago? Every molecule and cell of my body has been replaced many times over.

In the course of your life you will be continually encountering fools. There are simply too many to avoid. We can classify people as fools by the following rubric: when it comes to practical life, what should matter is getting long term results, and getting the work done in as efficient and creative a manner as possible. That should be the supreme value that guides people’s action. But fools carry with them a different scale of values. They place more importance on short-term matters – grabbing immediate money, getting attention from the public or media, and looking good. They are ruled by their ego and insecurities. They tend to enjoy drama and political intrigue for their own sake. When they criticize, they always emphasize matters that are irrelevant to the overall picture or argument. They are more interested in their career and position than in the truth. You can distinguish them by how little they get done, or by how hard they make it for others to get results. They lack a certain common sense, getting worked up about things that are not really important while ignoring problems that will spell doom in the long term. The natural tendency with fools is to lower yourself to their level. They annoy you, get under your skin, and draw you into a battle. In the process, you feel petty and confused. You lose a sense of what is really important. You can’t win an argument or get them to see your side or change their behavior, because rationality and results don’t matter to them. You simply waste valuable time and emotional energy. In dealing with fools you must adopt the following philosophy: they are simply a part of life, like rocks or furniture. All of us have foolish sides, moments in which we lose our heads and think more of our ego or short-term goals. It is human nature. Seeing this foolishness within you, you can then accept it in others. This will allow you to smile at their antics, to tolerate their presence as you would a silly child, and to avoid the madness of trying to change them. It is all part of the human comedy, and it is nothing to get upset or lose sleep over.

Secrets are a part of life. Their mysteries make our world beautiful. Their depths inspire our hearts, intrigue our minds, and embrace our very souls.

However, one intriguing shift that suggests there are limits to automation was the recent decision by Toyota to systematically put working humans back into the manufacturing process. In quality and manufacturing on a mass scale, Toyota has been a global leader in automation technologies based on the corporate philosophy of kaizen (Japanese for “good change”) or continuous improvement. After pushing its automation processes toward lights-out manufacturing, the company realized that automated factories do not improve themselves. Once Toyota had extraordinary craftsmen that were known as Kami-sama, or “gods” who had the ability to make anything, according to Toyota president Akio Toyoda.49 The craftsmen also had the human ability to act creatively and thus improve the manufacturing process. Now, to add flexibility and creativity back into their factories, Toyota chose to restore a hundred “manual-intensive” workspaces.

Richard Alther's Bedside Matters offers readers an insightful and moving end-of-life narrative in the spirit of Paul Harding's Tinkers and William Gaddis's Agapē Agape. Challenged by physical decline and family intrigue, Walter transcends his corporeal prison to find larger meaning in art, philosophy, and literature. A work of depth, carefully wrought with nuance and delicately wrapped in wisdom and humor, Bedside Matters serves up a worthy exploration of and an antidote to the shortcomings of our material age. — Jacob M. Appel, author of Millard Salter's Last Day.

All writers are demonic dreamers. Writing is an act of sharing experiences and offering of an individualistic perspective of our private attitudes pertaining to whatever topics of thought intrigues the author. Writing is a twitchy art, which attempts to employ linguist building blocks handed-down from past generations. Writers’ word choices form a structure of conjoined sentences when overlaid with the lingua of modern culture. Writers attempt to emulate in concrete form the synesthesia of our personal pottage steeped in our most vivid feelings. Writing a personal essay calls for us to sort out a jungle of lucid observations and express in a tangible technique our unique interpretation of coherent observations interlaced with that effusive cascade of yearning, the universal spice of unfilled desire, which turmoil of existential angst swamps us.

Any critique of Islam is denounced as an expression of Western Islamophobia, Salman Rushdie is denounced for unnecessarily provoking Muslims and being (partially, at least) responsible for the fatwa condemning him to death, and so on. The result of such stances is what one should expect in such cases: the more the Western liberal Leftists probe into their guilt, the more they are accused by Muslim fundamentalists of being hypocrites who try to conceal their hatred of Islam. [T]his constellation perfectly reproduces the paradox of the superego: the more you obey what the Other demands of you, the guiltier you are. It is as if the more you tolerate Islam, the stronger its pressure on you will be. What this implies is that terrorist fundamentalists, be they Christian or Muslim, are not really fundamentalists in the authentic sense of the term--what they lack is a feature that is easy to discern in all authentic fundamentalists, from Tibetan Buddhists to the Amish in the US: the absence of resentment and envy, the deep indifference towards the non-believers' way of life. If today's so-called fundamentalists really believe they have found their way to Truth, why should they feel threatened by non-believers, why should they envy them? When a Buddhist encounters a Western hedonist, he hardly condemns. He just benevolently notes that the hedonist's search for happiness is self-defeating. In contrast to true fundamentalists, the terrorist pseudo-fundamentalists are deeply bothered, intrigued and fascinated by the sinful life of the non-believers. One can feel that, in fighting the sinful other, they are fighting their own temptation. The passionate intensity of a fundamentalist mob bears witness to the lack of true conviction; deep in themselves, terrorist fundamentalists also lack true conviction--their violent outbursts are proof of it. How fragile the belief of a Muslim would be if he felt threatened by, say, a stupid caricature in a low-circulation Danish newspaper? Fundamentalist Islamic terror is not grounded in the terrorists' conviction of their superiority and in their desire to safeguard their cultural-religious identify from the onslaught of global consumerist civilization. The problem with fundamentalists is not that we consider them inferior to us, but, rather, that they themselves secretly consider themselves inferior. This is why our condescending politically correct assurances that we feel no superiority towards them only makes them more furious and feed their resentment. The problem is not cultural difference (their effort to preserve their identity), but the opposite: the fact that the fundamentalists are already like us, that, secretly, they have already internalized our standards and measure themselves by them.

In so far as I listen with interest to a record, it’s usually to figure out how it was arrived at. The musical end product is where interest starts to flag. It’s a bit like jigsaw puzzles. Emptied out of the box, there’s a heap of pieces, all shapes, sizes and colours, in themselves attractive and could add up to anything--intriguing. Figuring out how to put them together can be interesting, but what you finish up with as often as not is a picture of unsurpassed banality. Music’s like that." From “Derek Bailey and the Story of Free Improvisation” by Ben Watson, Verso, London, 2004, p. 440.

Blatant idiocies had been tried by early men and women--foolishness that would never have been considered by species aware of the laws of nature. Desperate superstitions had bred during the savage centuries. Styles of government, intrigues, philosophies were tested with abandon. It was almost as if Orphan Earth had been a planetary laboratory, upon which a series of senseless and bizarre experiments were tried. Illogical and shameful as they seemed in retrospect, those experiences enriched modern Man. Few races had made so many mistakes in so short a time, or tried so many tentative solutions to hopeless problems.

Can anyone imagine that the masterfulness, the overbearing disposition, the greed of gain, and the ruthlessness in methods, which are the faults of the master of industry at his worst, would cease when he was a functionary of the State, which had relieved him of risk and endowed him with authority? Can anyone imagine that politicians would no longer be corruptly fond of money, intriguing, and crafty when they were charged, not only with patronage and government contracts, but also with factories, stores, ships, and railroads? Could we expect anything except that, when the politician and the master of industry were joined in one, we should have the vices of both unchecked by the restraints of either?

What makes Hegel's picture of geist a significant contribution not only to the history of functionalism and philosophy of mind but also, intriguingly, to the history of artificial general intelligence, is that it presents a social model of general intelligence, one in which sociality is a formal condition for the realization of cognitive abilities that would be unrealizable by individual agents alone.

DOLMANCE — In this world there is nothing dangerous but pity and beneficence; goodness is never but a weakness of which the ingratitude and impertinence of the feeble always force honest folk to repent. Let a keen observer calculate all of pity's dangers, and let him compare them with those of a staunch, resolute severity, and he will see whether the former are not the greater. But we are straying, Eugénie; in the interests of your education, let's compress all that has just been said into this single word of advice: Never listen to your heart, my child; it is the most untrustworthy guide we have received from Nature; with greatest care close it up to misfortune's fallacious accents; far better for you to refuse a person whose wretchedness is genuine than to run the great risk of giving to a bandit, to an intriguer, or to a caballer: the one is of a very slight importance, the other may be of the highest disadvantage

The difference between mystics and saints is that the former stop at an inner vision, while the latter put it into practice. Saintliness suffers the consequences of mysticism, especially on the ethical side. A saint is a mystic, a mystic may not be a saint. Charity is not a necessary attribute of mysticism; but we cannot conceive of saintliness without it. Ethics plus mysticism gives birth to the intriguing phenomenon of sainthood. The mystics cultivate a heavenly sensuality, a voluptuousness born of their intercourse with the sky; only saints take on their shoulders the load of others, the suffering of unknown people; only they act. Compared to the pure mystic, the saint is a politician. Next to the mystic, the saint is the most active of men. Yet their troubled lives are not biographies because the are one-dimensional, variations on a single theme: absolute passion. 'The mystic is a man who tells you about your mystery while you remain silent.

Questions are always more subversive than statements. For one thing, they are indirect. Whereas it should be crystal clear what a statement is saying and where it is leading, a good question is not so obvious, and where it leads to is hidden. For another thing, questions are involving. Whereas a statement always has a “take it or leave it” quality, and we may or may not be interested in what it tells us, there is no standing back from a well-asked question. It invites us, challenges us or intrigues us to get into it and follow it to see where it leads. In short, even a simple question can be a soft form of subversion.

Psychology (and psychiatry), philosophy and education has always been my passion and has been ever since I was really young. I have always been intrigued by human behaviour and what makes people tick. Where do we come from? Why are we here? Where are we going? Why do people do what they do? From very young she has asked us the BIG questions and we didn’t know the answers. So she read and studied and read and studied. She does find it difficult at times because she wants the answers to life in very black-and-white ways. She loves the rules and when things don’t make sense, she can get frustrated. – Stepmother of curious psychology student

During the two hundred years since Kant’s death, not many full biographical treatments of Kant have been written. Though a recent bibliography of works on Kant’s life takes up 23 pages and lists 483 titles, most of these concern minutiae that are of little interest even to those most keenly intrigued by Kant’s philosophy.56 Rolf George finds in a recent review of Kant

The only inevitable thing in this world is death. I won't go through my own death; I'll go through my own dying, but not my own “being dead.” Thus, death as I experience it is the death of other people. Death affects me as loss and grief. It reminds me of a page in an intriguing book that abruptly vanishes. And now that it's gone, my experience is all about nostalgia, a lack of it, loss, and sorrow. They say that learning to die is learning to philosophize; that is, you gain wisdom by realizing that there is nothing to fear from death and, therefore, nothing to fear from anything. As a result, you should focus on all the activities of living rather than on death because, to us, death is meaningless.

The question of good and the nature of evil will always be on of philosophy’s most intriguing problems, up there with the problem of existence itself. I’m not quarreling with your choice of issues, only with your intellectually diminished approach. If evil means to be self-motivated, to be the center of one’s own universe, to live on one’s own terms, then every artiste every thinker, every original mind, is evil. Because we dare to look through our own eyes rather than mouth clichés lent us from the so-called Fathers. To dare to see is to steal fire from the Gods. This is mankind’s destiny, the engine which fuels us as a race.

The more intriguing question is not why we are here, but rather where we are going. In just three generations, we’ve transitioned from steam power to artificial intelligence. Wherever we’re headed, it seems we’re in a hurry to get there.

It is perfectly normal if your philosophies have shifted since your last book. You are human. Therefore, you are forever evolving. In my opinion, this actually makes for a more intriguing piece because people resonate with these natural cycles of life.

Poetry, architecture, music, philosophy and mathematics all intrigued him and he was patron of them all, surrounding himself with men of genius: the poet and satirist Juvenal, the architect Apollodorus, the historians Tacitus, Suetonius and Arrian, the writers Pliny the Younger, Pausanias and Plutarch.

Military expediency aside, how did the new emperor appear to his subjects? Experience, inclination and natural intelligence had made him a polymath, though the demands of his role as emperor, and the infinite resources available to him, left him open to accusations of dilettantism. This charge was unfair; he was unusual in that he genuinely wanted to become adept in many areas himself, rather than simply be served or amused by the ability of others. Throughout his reign his understanding was gained either by direct observation or by the development of skills that he admired in others. Poetry, architecture, music, philosophy and mathematics all intrigued him and he was patron of them all, surrounding himself with men of genius: the poet and satirist Juvenal, the architect Apollodorus, the historians Tacitus, Suetonius and Arrian, the writers Pliny the Younger, Pausanias and Plutarch.

Another aspect of concentration which intrigues me was a batsman’s ability to actually find a gap by remembering the field settings and then playing the ball through the fielders. A ball that was thrown at him at 150 kmph! The commentators always mention how the batsmen found beautiful gaps and that irritated the hell out of me because as a mediocre cricketer I never reached a stage in my batting where I could actually place the ball in a certain direction. So I once gathered the courage to ask Ricky Ponting if batsmen really found the gaps or was it merely a matter of luck. I knew it was a brave question but what I did not expect was a life philosophy that was one of the most impactful one I have heard in a long time. He said, “Ya mate, batting is an an instinct you hone over years of practice and that enables you to reach a level of expertise where you see the field placements in your mind. A good batsman imprints the fielders in the sub-conscious, but an excellent batsman imprints the gaps. There was a time I used to do the former and hit to the fielders but the moment I started to do the latter I found the gaps.” I was stunned by this analogy. When I mentioned this philosophy to my friend Rajiv Bajaj, the MD of Bajaj Auto he immediately added his business perspective to the same and said, “Exactly! In business, if you focus on the competitors you’ll start behaving like them. But if you focus on the gaps in the market you’ll become a champion company.

Writing a novel is a bit like being Daniel Boone. An author stands atop a ridge in a mountain range and can generally see a number of peaks in the distance. What lies between those peaks—the dales and glens, rivers, forests, and other features that distinguish one mountain landscape from another... is where the artistry and intrigue of the writing process lives. As the writer sets out into the story, leaving behind those high points—the beginning, a twist here and there, the climax, and, if perhaps a bit indistinct for the distance to cover, the end—entering the vale below, all manner of things can happen the writer never intended or expected at the onset.

Photos have emerged establishing that David William Ferrie had been in the same Civil Air Patrol unit as Lee Harvey Oswald and apparently Ferrie had met with Oswald during the summer of 1963. Ferrie was extremely against the Communistic philosophy. He was a member of the anti-Castro Cuban Revolutionary group, and was dubbed the master of intrigue. Once when he gave an anti-Kennedy speech to an American veterans’ group in New Orleans regarding the Bay of Pigs Invasion, his rant against the President was so belligerent that he was asked to leave the podium. On February 22, 1967, Ferrie mysteriously died of a stroke. The strange part concerning his death was that he left behind two suicide notes and then died of natural causes. In the days preceding his death, he had told friends that he was a dead man. Ferrie was only one of many who were somehow connected to Kennedy’s death and who later died in a mysterious way.

most intellectually intriguing episode in Ibn Hanbal's life was his fierce struggle with Al-Mutazillah, an isolationist school of Islamic philosophy that flourished in the eighth and ninth centuries in parts of Iraq and the Levant and which started with advocating the primacy of reasoning over tradition in interpreting the Koran and progressed into elaborate beliefs on the nature of God and the Koran that were very different from those of the Sunnis and the Shiis.

She asked me why I am not answering her questions. I looked at her with love and kept silent. Silence is my best answer for her intriguing questions.

Philosophy is so interesting and intriguing that it is almost boring not to be a philosopher.

You speak of the universe as if it were sentient,” I murmured, fascinated not only by her words, but by the enormity of this whole encounter. I, a mortal, stood before Order, the ruling force of Purgatory, well past the realm of the dead. A couple of weeks ago I’d found philosophy treaties to be the most challenging among my tasks. “But it is,” Order replied. “It does not need to manifest itself or to speak to you directly, but it is conscious on a cosmic level. It sees and hears and feels everything. Once in a while, it’s even intrigued by a special creature. Intrigued enough to demand its full attention. You’re too small to

The Nemo contra hominem nisi homo ipse could not be in sharper conflict with the doctrine of original sin, and the way in which the Promethean self-authorization and self-salvation attacked by Schmitt behaves towards it is no less evident; for the will of man to lead his life based entirely on his own resources and his own efforts, following reason alone and his own judgment—that is the original sin: man's impudence does not begin when he believes that he can make anything and everything, but rather when he forgets that there is nothing that he may do on his own authority, i.e., outside of the realm of obedience. The romantic is defined by Schmitt as the virtual embodiment of the incapacity to make the demanding moral decision; the romantic, like the bourgeois in general, would like to adjourn and postpone the decision forever; the "higher third" to which he appeals when confronted with a choie is in truth "not a higher but another third, i.e., always the way out in the fact of the Either-Or"; however, the matter does not rest there: religion, morality, and politics are for him nothing but "vehicles for his romantic interests" or just so many occasions to develop comprehensively his brilliant ego, which he raises to the "absolute center"; the romantic wants to defend the sovereignty of his limitless subjectivism against the seriousness of the political-theological reality inasmuch as he plays off one reality against the other, "never deciding in this intrigue of realities"; the romantic ego, which usurps God's place as the "final instance," lives in a "world without substance and without functional commitment, without firm guidance, without conclusion, and without definition, without decision, without a last judgment, continuing on without end, led only by the magic hand of chance"; the "secularization of God as a brilliant subject" conjures up a world in which all religious, moral, and political distinctions dissolve "into an interesting multitude of interpretations" and certainty evaporates into arbitrariness.

In the late 1970s, an intriguing diagnosis of the species problem was given by the biologist Michael Ghiselin and the philosopher David Hull. They argued that the problem as traditionally formulated rested on a mistaken assumption, namely that a biological species is a kind, or type, of thing. Instead, they argued that a species is a complex individual; that is, a particular thing.

The manuscripts were remarkable. Crumbling at the corners, ravaged by time, filled with odd drawings, these texts were like little that had been seen before. They were authorless and almost impossible to categorize. They were clearly ancient – they would later be dated to between the second century BC and the fifth century AD – but they were not like any ancient texts that were then known.1 They were not history or philosophy, nor comedy or tragedy, nor poetry, nor medicine, nor indeed anything that classicists felt comfortable with.

It wasn't the first time I had relied on her in our strange, undefined 'relationship.' Late-night texts, spontaneous meet-ups, testing boundaries—most of the time, she did bite. But this? This felt different. It wasn't just curiosity or intrigue anymore. I wasn't just waiting to see how far I could push her. I needed her. I wanted her in a way I couldn't fully explain, in a way that went far beyond anything I'd felt before.

Our imaginations are forlornly under-equipped to cope with distances outside the narrow middle range of the ancestrally familiar. We try to visualize an electron as a tiny ball, in orbit around a larger cluster of balls representing protons and neutrons. That isn’t what it is like at all. Electrons are not like little balls. They are not like anything we recognize. It isn’t clear that ‘like’ even means anything when we try to fly too close to reality’s further horizons. Our imaginations are not yet tooled-up to penetrate the neighbourhood of the quantum. Nothing at that scale behaves in the way matter – as we are evolved to think – ought to behave. Nor can we cope with the behaviour of objects that move at some appreciable fraction of the speed of light. Common sense lets us down, because common sense evolved in a world where nothing moves very fast, and nothing is very small or very large. At the end of a famous essay on ‘Possible Worlds’, the great biologist J. B. S. Haldane wrote, ‘Now, my own suspicion is that the universe is not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose…I suspect that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of, or can be dreamed of, in any philosophy.’ By the way, I am intrigued by the suggestion that the famous Hamlet speech invoked by Haldane is conventionally mis-spoken. The normal stress is on ‘your’:

A writer might elect to place what is inside them on paper because their life is disappointing or insufficiently stimulating, to escape agony and despair, to blunt withering discontentment and bitterness, or because language and endless self-exploration intrigues them.

When trying to interpret any myth, many people reflexively turn to the theories of people like James George Frazer, Carl Jung, Sigmund Freud, and Joseph Campbell. While each of those thinkers has developed an intriguing personal philosophy that uses various ancient mythologies as points of reference, their works are dubious guides to any one particular mythology. Their goal is not to understand any one mythology as deeply as possible on its own terms, but rather to identify supposed universal patterns within myth as such, which turns a blind eye toward the factors that make any given mythology unique. These thinkers, while fascinating in their own right, have little to no light to shed on how the Vikings themselves understood their own myths - which is, after all, the kind of interpretation that matters by far the most in a book of this sort.

According to Hammurabi, there is inherent inequality among human beings, dictated by the gods, while the American constitution states precisely the opposite but with the same divine sanction, stating that ‘all men were created equal.

I'm always intrigued by the different ways people decide what to believe. I mean, look at this -- they're taken from all over the place. Celtic knots, Eastern philosophy, the New Age. Past and present collapsed into a buffet of equivalent options all in pursuit of the divine.

Intrigued I am by every dot on the big black canvas above us.

There is Wrong and Right: there is no in-between. Surentûr changes history to fit his own scheme, casting shadows over the Light and enlightening the deeds of the Dark. But they were never the same.

Through society as we know it may become so enamored of Surentûr, that they would place their trust in one who would lead them blindfolded on the path ahead, you must hearken to my words! There is a great darkness in this world that seeks everywhere it might look to find those whom it would devour.

Men are weak. Their most regrettable feature is their quick satiety with good. Throughout history, a continuous pattern has developed: whenever evil's day hand and the world is at peace, they become discontented and restless, eventually finding some way to stir the old evil back to life. Their hearts are easily corrupted and can be led to treachery on a mere whim. It is like unto a tree, which can never be completely felled. For all our efforts, it continues to sprout forth dark fruit which falls like seeds into the hearts of men. It seems that no matter how many times we may fell the tree or hew off its branches, it grows swiftly anew and again spawns much evil with its darksome yield.

Soul," ey muses, "...an intriguing illusion created largely by the unconscious and unintentional behaviors of terran animals including humans, of posture, facial expressions, and voice inflection reinforced by physiological effects like pupil dilation and eye activity, healthy skin color, breathing and so on.

Zakrzewska’s work, ‘Olfaction and Prejudice’, explores how sickness-avoidance behaviours impact society in unexpected ways. She found evidence to show that ‘how easily one gets disgusted by body odours is reliably related to negative attitudes towards others’.23 Zakrzewska found that people who were most predisposed to body-odour disgust were more likely to exhibit explicit prejudice towards a fictitious refugee group, as well as harbour more implicit biases against real-life out-groups.24 These patterns were reliably reproduced in a number of different countries and cultures across the globe. In her thesis, Zakrzewska concedes that prejudice is, of course, not simply a function of our sense of smell, but these findings are an example of how many of our social biases ‘can at least partially be traced back to these primitive disease avoidance functions’. Disgust and avoidance are, respectively, emotions and behaviours adapted to aid our avoidance of pathogens, but they have surprising social consequences. We assume that the social reality we have constructed in the world – philosophy, politics, power – is built by human intellect, reason and will. But we are beginning to find out that it is profoundly influenced by feelings bubbling up from our body’s battle with the microbial world. It is intriguing to think that many of the behaviours that have shaped human history may have actually been the collateral damage of an ancient, ongoing microbial war.

Countless possibilities are waiting out there; as you strive for growth, you will encounter intriguing doors.

Do not be intrigued by ill-discipline if you want complete victory. Discipline positions you for victory.

Every empire passes through successive phases. (1) A victorious nomad tribe settles down to enjoy its conquest of a terrain or state. “The least civilized peoples make the most extensive conquests.”71 (2) As social relations become more complex, a more concentrated authority is required for the maintenance of order; the tribal chieftain becomes king. (3) In this settled order wealth grows, cities multiply, education and literature develop, the arts find patrons, science and philosophy lift their heads. Advanced urbanization and comfortable wealth mark the beginning of decay. (4) The enriched society comes to prefer pleasure, luxury, and ease to enterprise, risk, or war; religion loses its hold on human imagination or belief; morals deteriorate, pederasty grows; the martial virtues and pursuits decline; mercenaries are hired to defend the society; these lack the ardor of patriotism or religious faith; the poorly defended wealth invites attack by the hungry, seething millions beyond the frontiers. (5) External attack, or internal intrigue, or both together, overthrow the state.72

Philosophy for Life: And Other Dangerous Situations by Jules Evans. I’m intrigued,

so far ahead, with at least some degree of confidence. It is also rather intriguing that the fate of the universe billions upon billions of years in the future is actually clearer to us than the fate of our own civilization just a few centuries from now.