To suffer the penalty of too much haste, which is too little speed.

Love is an intermediate state between possession and deprivation.

The soul takes flight to the world that is invisible but there arriving she is sure of bliss and forever dwells in paradise.

The blame is his who chooses: God is blameless.

For the rhapsode ought to interpret the mind of the poet to his hearers, but how can he interpret him well unless he knows what he means?

It is our duty to select the best and most dependable theory that human intelligence can supply, and use it as a raft to ride the seas of life.

If we are to have any hope for the future, those who have lanterns must pass them on to others.