Under every deep a lower deep opens.
Strong men greet war, tempest, hard times. They wish, as Pindar said, to tread the floors of hell, with necessities as hard as iron.
Every hero becomes a bore at last.
Our moods do not believe in each other.
When we are exalted by ideas, we do not owe this to Plato, but to the idea, to which also Plato was debtor.
We are wiser than we know.