A multitude of books distracts the mind.

The soul, like the body, accepts by practice whatever habit one wishes it to contact.

The real artist, who knew what he was imitating, would be interested in realities and not in imitations; and would desire to leave as memorials of himself works many and fair; and, instead of being the author of encomiums, he would prefer to be the theme of them.

Those then who know not wisdom and virtue, and are always busy with gluttony and sensuality, go down and up again as far as the mean; and in this region they move at random throughout life, but they never pass into the true upper world; thither they neither look, nor do they ever find their way, neither are they truly filled with true being, nor do they ever taste of pure and abiding pleasure.

Wisdom is knowing when you don't know

What a lot of things I don't need.

I am confident that there truly is such a thing as living again, that the living spring from the dead, and that the souls of the dead are in existence.