And there is quite a different sort of conversation around a fire than there is in the shadow of a beech tree.... Four dry logs have in them all the circumstance necessary to a conversation of four or five hours, with chestnuts on the plate and a jug of wine between the legs. Yes, let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius.

Nothing, it appears to me, is of greater value in a man than the power of judgment; and the man who has it may be compared to a chest filled with books, for he is the son of nature and the father of art.

I keep my friends as misers do their treasure, because, of all the things granted us by wisdom, none is greater or better than friendship.

And there is quite a different sort of conversation around a fire than there is in the shadow of a beech tree.... Four dry logs have in them all the circumstance necessary to a conversation of four or five hours, with chestnuts on the plate and a jug of wine between the legs. Yes, let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius.

Age has a good mind and sorry shanks.

The art of war is like the art of the courtesan; indeed they might be called sisters, since both are slaves of desperation.

Why should I be ashamed to describe what nature was not ashamed to create?