Reason (n.) can be so many and so contradictory that for this very reason one cannot give any.
Reason (n.) as a motive for acting is a curious thing: grasped with passion it grows into a necessity that moves heaven and earth; without passion, one looks down on it with scorn.
Reason (n.) is the broker of finiteness; faith loses it, and then by virtue of the absurd gains back precisely the same finiteness.
Reason (n.) has enough distressing cleverness to see life's wretchedness but lacks the courage to grasp the power of love; it makes men faint-hearted, love gives courage.
Reason (n.) that is perfectly right can sound as if it came from the dead — every word true, and not one of them moving.