I am unable to distinguish any of my capacities or my talents when I turn to myself. The internal feeling which I have of myself tells me that I am, that I think, that I will, that I grieve, and so on… but it leaves me with no knowledge of who I am, of the nature of my thoughts, my emotions, my passions, or my pain… or the correlation acquired between all of them… I have no idea of my soul. I now turn to another part of myself, and because it suggests a higher idea of the plan of creation, it appears to me as the most seductive.
I have at least the quality of thinking; that’s why I cannot be nothing, or nonexistent. But who am I? I am not just a body, because a body is only an extension, a portion of who I am. All our knowledge begins with the senses, followed to the understanding and it ends with reason. There is nothing higher than reason.
In this world everything has either price or dignity. What has price can be replaced by something else as its equivalent, on the contrary, what is built above all price has dignity.
Is there freedom of indifference?