At every person’s birth, he or she is assigned a certain daemon by his own star, a guardian of life to help with his destined task.

He tastes nothing who has not tasted for himself.

In these times I don’t, in a manner of speaking, know what I want; perhaps I don’t want what I know and want what I don’t know.

. . . the poor man, whom the law does not allow to take . . . a pair of shoes for his freezing feet, is allowed to put his hand into the pocket of the rich, and say, You shall educate me. . . .

Books that distribute things... with as daring a freedom as we use in dreams, put us on our feet again.

The ideas of things intellectually known pass into the substance of the intellect much more than do foods into the substance of the body.

He tastes nothing who has not tasted for himself

Artists in each of the arts seek after and care for nothing but love.

[The imagination] . . . inspires an audacious mental habit. We are as elastic as the gas of gunpowder, and . . . a word dropped in conversation, sets free our fancy, and instantly our heads are bathed with galaxies, and our feet tread the floor of the Pit.

Never worry about anything. Live in the present. Live now. Be happy.