He whom Love touches not walks in darkness.

I'm trying to think, don't confuse me with facts.

And what, Socrates, is the food of the soul? Surely, I said, knowledge is the food of the soul.

I really do not know, Socrates, how to express what I mean. For somehow or other our arguments, on whatever ground we rest them, seem to turn round and walk away from us.

Being well satisfied that, for a man who thinks himself to be somebody, there is nothing more disgraceful than to hold himself up as honored, not on his own account, but for the sake of his forefathers. Yet hereditary honors are a noble and splendid treasure to descendants.

We do not learn; and what we call learning is only a process of recollection.

To think truly is noble and to be deceived is base.