Perhaps love is only the highest symbol of friendship, as all other things seem symbols of love.

What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say.

Dream delivers us to dream, and there is no end to illusion. Life is like a train of moods like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue. . . .

The genius of the Platonists, is intoxicating to the student, yet how few particulars of it can I detach from all their books.

That which we call character is a reserved force which acts directly by presence, and without means. It is conceived of as a certain undemonstrable force, a familiar or genius, by whose impulses the man is guided, but whose counsels he cannot impart.

There is no thought in any mind, but it quickly tends to convert itself into power.

A beautiful soul always dwells in a beautiful world.