Let no one honour me with tears, or bury me with lamentation. Why? Because I fly hither and thither, living in the mouths of me.

None of us will ever accomplish anything excellent or commanding except when he listens to this whisper which is heard by him alone.

Plato is philosophy, and philosophy, Plato,--at once the glory and the shame of mankind, since neither Saxon nor Roman have availed to add any idea to his categories.

Let us be silent — so we may hear the whisper of the gods.

Go oft to the house of thy friend, for weeds choke the unused path.

There is some awe mixed with the joy of our surprise, when this poet, who lived in some past world, two or three hundred years ago, says that which lies close to my own soul, that which I also had wellnigh thought and said.

Win as if you were used to it, lose as if you enjoyed it for a change.