And this is the life of the Gods, and of Godlike men, a life without love of the world, a flight of the Alone to the Alone.

You can only apprehend the Infinite by a faculty that is superior to reason.

A dogma recognized throughout antiquity... (that) the soul expiates its sins in the darkness of the infernal regions and... afterwards... passes into new bodies, there to undergo new trials.

Life here with the things of the earth is a sinking, a defeat, a failing of the wing.

Beauty is rather a light that plays over the symmetry of things than that symmetry itself.

The soul in its nature loves God and longs to be at one with Him in the noble love of a daughter for a noble father; but coming to human birth and lured by the courtships of this sphere, she takes up with another love, a mortal, leaves her father and falls.

Knowing demands the organ fitted to the object.