We have art in order not to die of the truth.

Sleeping is no mean art: for its sake one must stay awake all day.

Is it not better to fall into the hands of a murderer, than into the dreams of a lustful woman?

Illness is a clumsy attempt to arrive at health: we must come to nature's aid with intellect.

You say, it's dark. And in truth, I did place a cloud before your sun. But do you not see how the edges of the cloud are already glowing and turning light.

Happiness: being able to forget or, to express in a more learned fashion.

The irrationality of a thing is no argument against its existence, rather a condition of it.