Who hears me, who understands me, becomes mine, a possession for all time.

Nothing can bring you happiness but yourself especially how you choose to think about your situation.

By God, I will not obey this filthy enactment!

Ideas must work through the brains and the arms of good and brave men or they are no better than dreams.

Men grind and grind in the mill of a truism, and nothing comes out but what was put in. But the moment they desert the tradition for a spontaneous thought, then poetry, wit, hope, virtue, learning, anecdote, and all flock to their aid.

War, to sane men at the present day, begins to look like an epidemic insanity, breaking out here and there like the cholera or influenza, infecting men's brains instead of their bowels.

When we are exalted by ideas, we do not owe this to Plato, but to the idea, to which also Plato was debtor.