As a breath of wind or some echo rebounds from smooth, hard surfaces and returns to the source from which it issued, so the stream of beauty passes back into its possessor through his eyes, which is its natural route to the soul; arriving there and setting him all aflutter, it waters the passages of the feathers and causes the wings to grow, and fills the soul of the loved one in his turn with love.

Even the gods love jokes.

Love consists in feeling the Sacred One beating inside the loved one.

Renouncing the honors at which the world aims, I desire only to know the truth... and to the maximum of power, I exhort all other men to do the same.

Better to be unborn than untaught, for ignorance is the root of all misfortune.

God is not the author of all things, but of good only.

That man is wisest who, like Socrates, realizes that his wisdom is worthless