You’re not a comfortable person to have around, I’m actually scared of you, but I might as well inflate your inflated ego some more, at a distance, and confess that we’re all waiting for you impatiently.
There is no room for the love of others within the tight, crowded miser’s hole of a private ego.
In spiritual matters there is a simple, infallible test: everything that proceeds from the ego is evil; everything that proceeds from love for others is good.
It is one man’s ego defying the most sacred impulses of all mankind, of every man on the street, of every man in this courtroom!
You must be willing to suffer, to be cruel, to be dishonest, to be unclean—anything, my dear, anything to kill the most stubborn of roots, the ego.
We are poisoned by the superstition of the ego.
We must destroy the ego first.
I’ve given you, not my sacrifice or my pity, but my ego and my naked need.
Forget your little ego.
Only when you can feel contempt for your own priceless little ego, only then can you achieve the true, broad peace of selflessness, the merging of your spirit with the vast collective spirit of mankind.
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Only when you learn to deny your ego, completely, only when you learn to be amused by such piddling sentimentalities as your little sex urges—only then will you achieve the greatness which I have always expected of you.
It’s your ownership of your own ego.
I erased my ego out of existence in a way never achieved by any saint in a cloister.
It’s his ego he’s betrayed and given up.
Your ego is the strictest judge.
One man’s Ego against all the concepts of mercy, humanity and brotherhood.
Do you know the proper antonym for Ego?
To think, to feel, to judge, to act are functions of the ego.
Men have been taught that the ego is the synonym of evil, and selflessness the ideal of virtue.
All that which proceeds from man’s independent ego is good.
The first right on earth is the right of the ego.
By this fraud they were made to destroy the ego, themselves and others.
A self-sufficient ego.
Men without an ego.
Instead of the soaring lines reaching for heaven, demanded by the very nature of a temple, as a symbol of man’s quest for something higher than his little ego, this building is flauntingly horizontal, its belly in the mud, thus declaring its allegiance to the carnal, glorifying the gross pleasures of the flesh above those of the spirit.
"I breathe for my own necessity, for the fuel of my body, for my survival…I’ve given you, not my sacrifice or my pity, but my ego and my naked need…" She heard Roark’s words, Roark’s voice speaking for Gail Wynand—and she felt no sense of treason to Roark in using the words of his love for the love of another man.