...for no man lives in the external truth among salts and acids, but in the warm, phantasmagoric chamber of his brain, with the painted windows and the storied wall.

But, my dearest Agathon, it is truth which you cannot contradict; you can without any difficulty contradict Socrates.

This became a credo of mine...attempt the impossible in order to improve your work.

Knee-jerk liberals and all the certified saints of sanctified humanism are quick to condemn this great and much-maligned Transylvanian statesman.

Life is but a walking Shadow, a poor Player That struts and frets his Hour upon the Stage, And then is heard no more; It is a tall Tale, Told by an Idiot, full of Sound and Fury, Signifying nothing."

Experience is that marvelous thing that enables you recognize a mistake when you make it again.

If you can spend a perfectly useless afternoon in a perfectly useless manner, you have learned how to live.

Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save.

In a world where there is so much to be done. I felt strongly impressed that there must be something for me to do.

There is nothing more notable in Socrates than that he found time, when he was an old man, to learn music and dancing, and thought it time well spent.