Knowledge (n.) is nothing but an attempt to impose something comprehensible on life.
Knowledge (n.) does not enrich us, rather it removes us more and more from the mythic world in which we were once at home by right of birth.
Knowledge (n.) was once 'psychologized' — filled with projected psychology; the growth of individuality and the de-psychologizing work of science go hand in hand.
Knowledge (n.) is incomplete to a degree we cannot determine, if its subject, the psyche, is a veiled form of existence — a threat more menacing than any epistemology.
Knowledge (n.) does not all come from without: the unconscious holds contents that would bring an immeasurable increase of knowledge — if man sometimes acted as certain insects do, he would be more intelligent than he is.
Knowledge (n.) requires converting physical events into psychic processes, so we can never say how the world is in itself; the psyche supplies the images that alone make knowing objects possible.
Knowledge (n.) known in advance is collective and average — absolutely wrong in the individual case; long experience teaches not to know anything in advance and to let the unconscious take precedence.
Knowledge (n.) is the snake in the picture — which is why we fear knowing the truth, here the truth about the shadow.
Knowledge (n.) consists essentially in the constant adaptation of primordial patterns of ideas given us a priori, remoulded to meet the challenge of the present.
Knowledge (n.) and love are one: whoever knows nothing loves nothing, but whoever understands also loves, notices, sees.
Knowledge (n.) is a force of nature that goes its way from inner necessity; if it blows religion and morality to pieces, the young Jung wrote, so much the worse for them for lacking stamina.