Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back.
He is best of all who of himself conceiveth all things; good again is he too who can adopt a good suggestion; but whoso neither of himself conceiveth nor hearing from another layeth it to heart; — he is a useless man.
Not everything I bring forth is written out of my head, but much of it comes from the heart also.
My friends, it is wise to nourish the soul, otherwise you will breed dragons and devils in your heart.
Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakens.
In general, the heart seems to have a more reliable memory for what benefits the psyche than does the head, which has a rather unhealthy tendency to lead an “abstract” existence, and easily forgets that its consciousness is snuffed out the moment the heart fails its duty.
abstract / consciousness / Heart / memory / psyche
The simplest, most indefinable quality had too much content, in relation to itself, in its heart.
The beginnings of algebra I found far more difficult, perhaps as a result of bad teaching, I was made to learn by heart: ‘The square of the sum of two numbers is equal to the sum of their squares increased by twice their product.’ I had not the vaguest idea what this meant, and when I could not remember the words, my tutor threw the book at my head, which did not stimulate my intellect in any way.
We say that a man’s dead when his heart stops and not before. It seems a bit arbitrary. After all, parts of your body don’t stop working — hair goes on growing for years, for instance. Perhaps a man really dies when his brain stops, when he loses the power to take in a new idea.
One ought to hold on to one’s heart; for if one lets it go, one soon loses control of the head too.