Our vanity desires that what we do best should be considered what is hardest for us.

In song and dance, man forgets how to walk and speak and is on the way into flying into the air, dancing... his very gestures express enchantment.

In the end we are always rewarded for our good will, our patience, fair-mindedness, and gentleness with what is strange.

I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.

[Heraclitus speaks as if] in entrancement ... but [also] truthfully.

Wisdom sets bounds even to knowledge.

We must be cruel as well as compassionate: let us guard against becoming poorer than nature is!