this is thy hour o soul, thy free flight into the wordless, away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best, night, sleep, death and the stars.

Be not ashamed women, ... You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.

Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.

I am for those who believe in loose delights, I share the midnight orgies of young men, I dance with the dancers and drink with the drinkers.

The gift is to the giver, and comes back most to him - it cannot fail

Strong and content I travel the open road.

In all people I see myself - none more, and not one a barleycorn less; And the good or bad I say of myself, I say of them.