Nobody thanks a witty man for politeness when he puts himself on a par with a society in which it would not be polite to show one's wit.

The poet presents his thoughts festively, on the carriage of rhythm: usually because they could not walk.

Truth is only an illusion we have forgotten is an illusion.

Every man has his price. This is not true. But for every man there exists a bait which he cannot resist swallowing. To win over certain people to something, it is only necessary to give it a gloss of love of humanity, nobility, gentleness, self-sacrifice - and there is nothing you cannot get them to swallow. To their souls, these are the icing, the tidbit; other kinds of souls have others.

Behold! I am weary of my wisdom, like the bee that has gathered too much honey; I need hands outstretched to take it from me. I wish to spread it and bestow it, until the wise have once more become joyous in their folly, and the poor happy in their riches.

The reasons for which 'this' world has been characterized as 'apparent' are the very reasons which indicate its reality; any other kind of reality is absolutely indemonstrable.

A great value of antiquity lies in the fact that its writings are the only ones that modern men still read with exactness.