He who fears he will suffer, already suffers from ...

Age imprints more wrinkles in the mind than it does on the face.

There is no pleasure to me without communication: there is not so much as a sprightly thought comes into my mind that it does not grieve me to have produced alone, and that I have no one to tell it to.

My trade and art is to live.

Taste is the fundamental quality which sums up all the other qualities. It is the nec plus ultra of the intelligence. Through this alone is genius the supreme health and balance of all the faculties.

The voice of the intelligence is drowned out by the roar of fear. It is ignored by the voice of desire. It is contradicted by the voice of shame. It is biased by hate and extinguished by anger. Most of all it is silenced by ignorance.

Sculpture is the art of the intelligence.

Americans have always had an ambivalent attitude toward intelligence. When they feel threatened, they want a lot of it, and when they don't, they regard the whole thing as somewhat immoral.

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.

Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen.

The older I grow the more I distrust the familiar doctrine that age brings wisdom.

Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself.

Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.

Love and kindness are never wasted. They always make a difference. They bless the one who receives them, and they bless you, the giver.

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.