To fear death, gentlemen, is no other than to think oneself wise when one is not, to think one knows what one does not know.
I am very conscious that I am not wise at all.
Our lives are but specks of dust falling through the fingers of time. Like sands of the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.
False language, evil in itself, infects the soul with evil.
This is...self-knowled ge-for a man to know what he knows, and what he does not know.
I was afraid that by observing objects with my eyes and trying to comprehend them with each of my other senses I might blind my soul altogether.