There are moments when the walls of the mind grow thin; when nothing is unabsorbed.
The state of mind of a community is always directly due to the influence of the man at the top.
The pendulum of the mind oscillates between sense and nonsense, not between right and wrong.
The pen is the tongue of the mind; the thoughts that are formed in the one, and those that are traced by the other, will bear a near resemblance.
The order that our mind imagines is like a net, or like a ladder, built to attain something. But afterward you must throw the ladder away, because you discover that, even if it was useful, it was meaningless.
The most merciful thing in the world is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.
The mind will play curious tricks when it is in a tight corner.
The human mind will not be confined to any limits.
The human mind prefers to be spoon-fed with the thoughts of others, but deprived of such nourishment it will, reluctantly, begin to think for itself – and such thinking, remember, is original thinking and may have valuable results.
The human mind delights in grand conceptions of supernatural beings.
The human brain is finite – no more than a sponge of tissue inside a cage of bone – but the mind within the brain is infinite. Its storage capacity is colossal, its imaginative reach beyond our ability to comprehend. I think when a man or woman dies, a whole world falls to ruin – the world that person knew and believed in. Think of that, kiddo – billions of people on earth, and each one of those billions with a world inside. The earth their minds have conceived.
The general history of art and literature shows that the highest achievements of the human mind are, as a rule, not favourably received at first.
