Daily Philosophy Quotes

Swallow the tears back often enough and they’ll start feeling like acid dripping down your throat.

If we are mark’d to die, we are enow To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination.

So sick I am not, yet I am not well; But not so citizen a wanton as To seem to die ere sick: so please you, leave me; Stick to your journal course: the breach of custom Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me Cannot amend me; society is no comfort To one not sociable: I am not very sick, Since I can reason of it. Pray you, trust me here: I’ll rob none but myself; and let me die, Stealing so poorly.

When you are young you think you will get lots of chances at love. You are careless, you spend your youth and your freedom and your love because you think you will be rich with all these things for ever. But they do not last. You spend it all, then you see if you have spent wisely.

There’s many a man hath more hair than wit.

Since what I am to say must be but that Which contradicts my accusation and The testimony on my part no other But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me To say ‘not guilty:’ mine integrity Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it, Be so received. But thus: if powers divine Behold our human actions, as they do, I doubt not then but innocence shall make False accusation blush and tyranny Tremble at patience.

A bookshelf is like a framed collage. Every book is a photograph; every spine tells a story. Friends you left behind, enemies you’d long forgotten, places you’d once visited. This is why I keep my books.

There is no death, daughter. People die only when we forget them,’ my mother explained shortly before she left me. ‘If you can remember me, I will be with you always.

Actual life was chaos, but there was something terribly logical in the imagination.

A well-chosen book saves you from everything, including yourself.

Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile, And cry ‘Content’ to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions. I’ll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; I’ll slay more gazers than the basilisk; I’ll play the orator as well as Nestor, Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. I can add colours to the chameleon, Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, And set the murderous Machiavel to school. Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? Tut, were it farther off, I’ll pluck it down.