A short cut to riches is to subtract from our desires.
Life in itself is short enough, but the physicians with their art, know to their amusement, how to make it still shorter.
Who naught suspects is easily deceived.
I know and love the good, yet, ah! the worst pursue.
I have taken pride in others, never in myself.
While life is in your body, you have the rein of all thoughts in your hands.
Man has no greater enemy than himself. I have acted contrary to my sentiments and inclination; throughout our whole lives we do what we never intended, and what we proposed to do, we leave undone.
Hope is incredible to the slave of grief.
Virtue is health, vice is sickness.
Books never pall on me. They discourse with us, they take counsel with us, and are united to us by a certain living chatty familiarity. And not only does each book inspire the sense that it belongs to its readers, but it also suggests the name of others, and one begets the desire of the other.
The aged love what is practical while impetuous youth longs only for what is dazzling.
To be able to say how much love, is love but little.
Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together.
I freeze and burn, love is bitter and sweet, my sighs are tempests and my tears are floods, I am in ecstasy and agony, I am possessed by memories of her and I am in exile from myself.
Great errors seldom originate but with men of great minds.
A good death does honour to a whole life.
Mere elegance of language can produce at best but an empty renown.
I rejoiced in my progress, mourned my weaknesses, and commiserated the universal instability of human conduct.
If a hundred or a thousand people, all of the same age, of the same constitution and habits, were suddenly seized by the same illness, and one half of them were to place themselves under the care of doctors, such as they are in our time, whilst the other half entrusted themselves to Nature and to their own discretion, I have not the slightest doubt that there would be more cases of death amongst the former, and more cases of recovery among the latter.
I would have preferred to have been born in any other time than our own.
I desire that death find me ready and writing, or if it please Christ, praying and intears.
How difficult it is to save the bark of reputation from the rocks of ignorance.
The end of doubt is the beginning of repose.
Who over-refines his argument brings himself to grief
Each famous author of antiquity whom I recover places a new offence and another cause of dishonor to the charge of earlier generations, who, not satisfied with their own disgraceful barrenness, permitted the fruit of other minds, and the writings that their ancestors had produced by toil and application, to perish through insufferable neglect. Although they had nothing of their own to hand down to those who were to come after, they robbed posterity of its ancestral heritage.
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