Many are the places of worship, but few indeed are those who worship in Spirit and in truth.

The biggest thing in today's sorrow is the memory of yesterday's joy.

Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?

The sorrowful spirit finds relaxation in solitude. It abhors people, as a wounded deer deserts the herd and lives in a cave until it is healed or dead.

Wisdom stands at the turn in the road and calls upon us publicly, but we consider it false and despise its adherents.

It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.

Friendship with the ignorant is as foolish as arguing with a drunkard.