As wolves love lambs so lovers love their loves.

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

Madness is a divine release of the soul from the yoke of custom and convention.

Love is of something, and that which love desires is not that which love is or has; for no man desires that which he is or has. And love is of the beautiful, and therefore has not the beautiful. And the beautiful is the good, and therefore, in wanting and desiring the beautiful, love also wants and desires the good.

Any city, however small, is in fact divided into two, one the city of the poor, the other of the rich; these are at war with one another.

Many are the noble words in which poets speak concerning the actions of men; but like yourself when speaking about Homer, they do not speak of them by any rules of art: they are simply inspired to utter that to which the Muse impels them, and that only; and when inspired, one of them will make dithyrambs, another hymns of praise, another choral strains, another epic or iambic verses- and he who is good at one is not good any other kind of verse: for not by art does the poet sing, but by power divine.

Where love reigns, there's no need for laws.