Of all that is written, I love only what a person hath written with his blood.

Everyone becomes brave when he observes one who despairs.

Epicurus had rage and envy of Plato's superior style.

We believe that we know something about the things themselves when we speak of trees, colors, snow, and flowers; and yet we possess nothing but metaphors for things - metaphors which correspond in no way to the original entities.

He who rejoices even at the stake triumphs not over pain but over the absence of pain where he had anticipated feeling it. A parable.

Have you noticed there are no interesting people in heaven? -Just a hint to the girls as to where they can find their salvation.

I climb upon the highest mountains, laughing at all tragedies - whether real or imaginary.