When a man is perfect, he sees perfection in others. When he sees imperfection, it is his own mind projecting itself.

Time is a mind construct. It's not real.

A painter without hands who wished to express in song the picture before his mind would, by means of this substitution of spheres, still reveal more about the essence of things than does the empirical world.

I didn't mind being thought of as dumb. I knew I wasn't.

If your joy is derived from what society thinks of you, you're always going to be disappointed.

The same wind is blowing, and yet one of us may be cold and the other not.