“I am all that hath been, and is, and shall be, and my veil no mortal has hitherto raised.”

Evidence of trust begets trust, and love is reciprocated by love.

Many things which cannot be overcome when they are together yielding themselves up when taken little by little.

May I never sit where it is impossible for me to get up and offer my seat to an older man?

To the Dolphin alone, beyond all other, nature has granted what the best philosophers seek: friendship for no advantage.

The whole of life is but a moment of time. It is our duty, therefore to use it, not to misuse it.

In words are seen the state of mind and character and disposition of the speaker.

Courage consists not in hazarding without fear; but being resolutely minded in a just cause.

Even those virtues that nature had denied him were imitated by him so successfully that he won more confidence than those who actually possessed them.

Do not speak of your happiness to one less fortunate than yourself.

A mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be lighted.

We ought indeed to shrink from and feel shame at what is base, but nature which is over-cautious to avoid blame may be gentle and kindly, but cannot be great.

All men whilst they are awake are in one common world: but each of them, when he is asleep, is in a world of his own.

Painting is silent poetry.

They insist upon the shaving of the mustache, I think, in order that they may accustom the young men to obedience in the most trifling matters.

The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled.

Courage consists not in hazarding without fear, but being resolutely minded in a just cause.

You are like a wrecked ship in the depths of the ocean, collapsed and eroded but still, full of pearl oysters.

But the act of holding on speaks to me so much more about a human heart than the courage of letting go ever could.

These poets and their metaphors lied to me/ you never felt like a mountain I wished to climb/ or a stream I would let myself float in/ or a scent I was dying to bottle in/ these poets lie when they talk of love.

All my life has been a struggle to know, what to hold on and what to let go, but still, i end up sitting in the corner of the room with a flickering candle, whimpering, naked, shuddering, lost.

Stop giving your infant heart/ wrapped in blind vows/ white lies/ and a haunted past/ stop asking for love/ if you don’t know how to give any/ stop hurting others/ stop it/ stop it/ just fucking stop it.

Without literature, life is hell.

It has always been a happy thought to me that the creek runs on all night, new every minute, whether I wish it or know it or care, as a closed book on a shelf continues to whisper to itself its own inexhaustible tale.

How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book.