What a man does not understand, he does not possess.

I am a part of the part that at first was all, part of the darkness that gave birth to the light, that supercilious light which now disputes with Mother Night her ancient rank and space, and yet cannot succeed; no matter how it struggles, it sticks to matter and can't get free. Light flows from substance, makes it beautiful.

Poor fool! in whose petty estimation all things are little.

Death is a commingling of eternity with time; in the death of a good man, eternity is seen looking through time.

Microscopes and telescopes really confuse our minds.

The light is there, and colors surround us. However, if there were no light nor colors in our own eye, we wouldn't perceive such things outside of us.

We are our own aptest deceiver.