The truth of a thing is the feel of it, not the think of it.
Spend time every day listening to what your muse is trying to tell you.
When I do things without any explanation, but just with spontaneity ... I can be sure that I am right.
Analysis kills spontaneity. The grain once ground into flour germinates no more.
Spontaneity is the quality of being able to do something just because you feel like it at the moment, of trusting your instincts, of taking yourself by surprise and snatching from the clutches of your well-organized routine a bit of unscheduled pleasure.
I never believe facts; Canning said nothing was so fallacious as facts, except figures.
Trust your hunches. ... Hunches are usually based on facts filed away just below the conscious level. Warning! Do not confuse your hunches with wishful thinking. This is the road to disaster.
Facts are not truths; they are not conclusions; they are not even premisses, but in the nature and parts of premisses.
You cannot know what you cannot feel.
We should chiefly depend not upon that department of the soul which is most superficial and fallible (our reason), but upon that department that is deep and sure, which is instinct.
I make all my decisions on intuition. I throw a spear into the darkness. That is intuition. Then I must send an army into the darkness to find the spear. That is intellect.
Instinct is intelligence incapable of self-consciousness.
Every advance in social progress removes us more and more from the guidance of instinct, obliging us to depend upon reason for the assurance that our habits are really agreeable to the laws of health.
Follow your instincts. That's where true wisdom manifests itself.
Impulse without reason is not enough, and reason without impulse is a poor makeshift.
The shrewd guess, the fertile hypothesis, the courageous leap to a tentative conclusion-these are the most valuable coin of the thinker at work.
A trembling in the bones may carry a more convincing testimony than the dry, documented deductions of the brain.
Calculation never made a hero.
We are so clothed in rationalization and dissemblance that we can recognize but dimly the deep primal impulses that motivate us.
All our reasoning ends in surrender to feeling.