Compassion is not a passion; rather a noble disposition of the soul, made ready to receive love, mercy, and other charitable passions.

Thus you may understand that love alone is the true seed of every merit in you, and of all acts for which you must atone.

I made my own house be my gallows.

Those ancients who in poetry presented the golden age, who sang its happy state, perhaps, in their Parnassus, dreamt this place. Here, mankind's root was innocent; and here were every fruit and never-ending spring; these streams--the nectar of which poets sing.

Unity in wills cannot be unless there is one will dominating and ruling all the rest to oneness... wills of mortals have need of a directive principle... therefore for the well-being of the world, there should be a monarchy.

Not one drop of blood is left inside my veins that does not throb: I recognize signs of the ancient flame.

Like the lark that soars in the air, first singing, then silent, content with the last sweetness that satiates it, such seemed to me that image, the imprint of the Eternal Pleasure.