The water hollows out the stone, not by force but drop by drop.

The mind like a sick body can be healed and changed by medicine.

If anyone decided to call the sea Neptune, and corn Ceres, and to misapply the name of Bacchus rather than to give liquor its right name, so be it; and let him dub the round world "Mother of the Gods" so long as he is careful not really to infest his mind with base superstitions.

From the heart of this fountain of delights wells up some bitter taste to choke them even amid the flowers.

If men saw that a term was set to their troubles, they would find strength in some way to withstand the hocus-pocus and intimidations of the prophets.

The fall of dropping water wears away the Stone.

Out beyond our world there are, elsewhere, other assemblages of matter making other worlds. Ours is not the only one in air's embrace.