Mortal men ask God for good things every day, but they never pray that they may make good use of them.

The doctors of antiquity have affirmed that love is a passion that resembles a melancholy disease. The physician Rasis prescribed, therefore, in order to recover, coitus, fasting, drunkenness, and walking.

Laurel crowns cleave to deserts And power to him who power exerts; Hast not thy share? On winged feet, Lo! it rushes thee to meet; . . .

The ideas of things intellectually known pass into the substance of the intellect much more than do foods into the substance of the body.

In these times I don't, in a manner of speaking, know what I want; perhaps I don't want what I know and want what I don't know.

[The imagination] . . . inspires an audacious mental habit. We are as elastic as the gas of gunpowder, and . . . a word dropped in conversation, sets free our fancy, and instantly our heads are bathed with galaxies, and our feet tread the floor of the Pit.

You are running to seek your friend. Let your feet run, but your mind need not.