Reason is not what decides love.
Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and then for money.
Once you have the cap and gown all you need do is open your mouth. Whatever nonsense you talk becomes wisdom and all the rubbish good sense.
The road is a long one from the projection of a thing to its accomplishment.
Music and dance are all you need.
Grammar, which knows how to lord it over kings, and with high hands makes them obey its laws.