Andrew Solomon Quotes

When I look at the human brain I'm still in awe of it. Every single time you lift off the bone and open the durra and there it is - the human brain, the thing that gives a person a personality, that distinguishes each one of us, that there could be more than 6 billion of us here on this planet with brains that look the same, but each one being distinctly different because of what is going on in that thing. I'll never get over my awe of that.

The brain, is the most complex thing we have yet discovered in our universe.

Love can change us beyond recognition, we become love-sick, soft-eyed jelly-bellied fools.

Love makes its record in deeper colors as we grow out of childhood into manhood; as the Emperors signed their names in green ink when under age, but when of age, in purple.

although science could pinpoint the exact spot in the brain that ignites rage, they had yet to identify the location that produces love.

Whoever has loved once, knows all that life contains of sorrow and of joy.

Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.

If you look at old pictures, Irene Casey is so pretty. Not just young, but pretty the way you look when your face goes smooth, the skin around your eyes and lips relaxed, the pretty you only look when you love the person taking the picture.

Love has its roots in sex, but its foliage and flowers are in the pure light of spirit.

my definition of the ideal man is 'that particular man with whom a woman happens to be in love at that particular time.

Personal experience is the lightning of the soul; it transforms the heart in ways that leave the brain behind.

Prem Bubula, I have told you that a woman is to be loved, not understood.

Love not only occupies the higher lobes of the brain, but crowds out the lower to make room for its expansion.

It is strongly suspected that a NEWTON or SHAKESPEARE excels other mortals only by a more ample development of the anterior cerebral lobes, by having an extra inch of brain in the right place.

... the life of the mind is reality, and love without romantic illumination is a spiritless matter.

How is it that the poets have said so many fine things about our first love, so few about our later love? Are their first poems their best? or are not those the best which come from their fuller thought, their larger experience, their deeper-rooted affections? The boy's flute-like voice has its own spring charm; but the man should yield a richer, deeper music.

Original love never appears in pure form, but in manifold veils and shapes, such as confidence, humility, reverence, serenity, asfaithfulness and modesty, as gratefulness; but primarily as longing and wistful melancholy.

When I paint a portrait I want to know more than just the looks of the person. I want to know how they live and what their feelings are... It then becomes more than just physiognomy, but the feel of the person.

Because if a woman's heart was free a man might have hope.

Anger is a prelude to courage.

I would be so curious to wire my brain up and see what's occurring when I act, because a performance is such a heightened state. I've always found that with doing theatre especially. It's so hard to come down.

Love is like some fresh spring, first a stream and then a river, changing its aspect and its nature as it flows to plunge itself in some boundless ocean, where restricted natures only find monotony, but where great souls are engulfed in endless contemplation.

a young woman in love always looks like patience on a monument smiling at grief

Love's mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.

We have learned more about the brain in the last fifteen years than in all prior human history, and the mind, once considered out of reach, is finally assuming center stage.