What we call happiness is what we do not know.

All the good writers of confessions, from Augustine onwards, are men who are still a little in love with their sins.

In its majestic equality, the law forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges, beg in the streets and steal loaves of bread.

Silence is the wit of fools.

People who have no weaknesses are terrible; there is no way of taking advantage of them.

The Arab who built himself a hut with marbles from the temple of Palmyra is more philosophical than all the curators of the museums of London, Paris, and Munich.

Custom alone regulates morals.