If a man comes to the door of poetry untouched by the madness of the Muses, believing that technique alone will make him a good poet, he and his sane compositions never reach perfection, but are utterly eclipsed by the performances of the inspired madman.

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

All I know is that I do not know anything

The greater the power that deigns to serve you, the more honor it demands of you.

The warm love has the coldest end.

True wisdom lies in one's confession about the limits of one's knowledge.

Remember, no human condition is ever permanent. Then you will not be overjoyed in good fortune nor too scornful in misfortune.