Your soul is the whole world.
Your eyes show the strength of your soul.
You use a glass mirror to see your face: you use works of art to see your soul.
You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope.
When the soul suffers too much, it develops a taste for misfortune…
When a human soul draws its first furrow straight, the rest will follow surely.
Whatever satisfies souls is true.
What, then, do you call your soul? What idea have you of it? You cannot of yourselves, without revelation, admit the existence within you of anything but a power unknown to you of feeling and thinking.
What we experience in dreams, provided we experience it often, pertains at last just as much to the general belonging of our soul as anything “actually” experienced; by virtue thereof we are richer or poorer.
What profit it a man if he gain the whole world but in this enterprise lose his soul?
What do you suppose will satisfy the soul, except to walk free and own no superior?
We all have a secret buried under lock and key in the attic of our soul.
