A poem in my opinion, is opposed to a work of science by having for its immediate object, pleasure, not truth.

The fever called "living" Is conquer'd at last.

In [chess], where the pieces have different and "bizarre" motions, with various and variable values, what is only complex, is mistaken (a not unusual error) for what is profound

A fool, for example, thinks Shakespeare a great poet . . . yet the fool has never read Shakespeare.

Sometimes I’m terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts.

If you wish to forget anything on the spot, make a note that this thing is to be remembered.

I have great faith in fools,— self-confidence my friends will call it.