my mind is
a big hunk of irrevocable nothing

The mind is not, I know, a highway but a temple, and its doors should not be carelessly left open.

To be too conscious is an illness—a real thoroughgoing illness.

It is far, far better and much safer to have a firm anchor in nonsense than to put out on the troubled seas of thought.

As is the face, so is the mind.

Madness need not be all breakdown. It may also be breakthrough.

Is there no way out of the mind?

Your mind’s got to eat, too.

The brain may be regarded as a kind of parasite of the organism, a pensioner, as it were, who dwells with the body.

Imagination continually outruns the creature it inhabits.

From a man’s face, I can read his character. If I can see him walk, I know his thoughts.

“I think, therefore I am” is the statement of an intellectual who underrates toothaches.

Imagination is the secret and marrow of civilization. It is the very eye of faith.