The ego is nothing more than a false belief about our identity. It is the belief that we are separate, alone, and on our own.

It is a narrow mind which cannot look at a subject from various points of view.

...Every ego so far from being a unity is in the highest degree a manifold world, a constellated heaven, a chaos of forms, of states and stages, of inheritances and potentialities. It appears to be a necessity as imperative as eating and breathing for everyone to be forced to regard this chaos as a unity and to speak of his ego as though is was a one-fold and clearly detached and fixed phenomenon. Even the best of us shares this delusion.

If we can see that the ego is purely fictitious — that it is merely an image of ourselves coupled with a sensation of muscular strain occasioned by trying to make this image an effective agent to control emotion and direct the nervous operations of our organism — then it becomes clear that what we have called ourselves isn’t able to do anything at all.

3 El ego es un intento de la mente errada para que te percibas a ti mismo tal como deseas ser, en vez de como realmente eres. 4 Sin embargo, sólo te puedes conocer a ti mismo como realmente eres, ya que de eso es de lo único que puedes estar seguro. 5 Todo lo demás es cuestionable.

In the end one experiences only oneself.

Egos appear by setting themselves apart from other egos.

[T]he ego is the social image or role with which the mind is shamed into identifying itself, since we are taught to act the part which society wants us to play - the part of a reliable and predictable centre of action which resists spontaneous change. But in extreme suffering and death this part cannot be played, and as a result they become associated with all the shame and fear with which, as children, we were forced into becoming acceptable egos. Death and agony are therefore dreaded as loss of status, and their struggles are desperate attempts to maintain the assumed patterns of action and feeling.

Life is a peephole, a single tiny entry onto a vastness — how can I not dwell on this brief, cramped view of things? This peephole is all I've got!

The ego is what drives a self-serving individual who hates to admit they are wrong.

For the ego exists in an abstract sense alone, being an abstraction from memory, somewhat like the illusory circle of fire made by a whirling torch. We can, for example, imagine the path of a bird through the sky as a distinct line which it has taken. But this line is as abstract as a line of latitude. In concrete reality, the bird left no line, and, similarly, the past from which our ego is abstracted has entirely disappeared. Thus any attempt to cling to the ego or to make it an effective source of action is doomed to frustration.

The reason why our sentient, percipient and thinking ego is met nowhere within our scientific world picture can easily be indicated in seven words: because it is itself that world picture.

What an incorrigible nonentity one must be to play only one role in life, to occupy only one place in society, to always mean one and the same thing!

It had come to him that no one would ever look from these eyes but he: that among all the lives, numerous beyond imagination, in which he might have lived, he was this one, pinned to this single point of infinity; the rest always to be alien, he to be I.