Avarice is to the intellect what sensuality is to the morals.

A good taste is often unconscious; a just taste is always conscious.

We can sometimes love what we do not understand, but it is impossible completely to understand what we do not love.

You must never believe what the newspapers say. I stand aghast at the impudence of the lies they contain, things not only false in fact, but absolutely impossible.

When we talk of leaving our childhood behind us, we might as well say that the river flowing onward to the sea had left the fountain behind.

Blessed is the memory of those who have kept themselves unspotted from the world. Yet more blessed and more dear the memory of those who have kept themselves unspotted in the world.

Chill penury weighs down the heart itself; and though it sometimes be endured with calmness, it is but the calmness of despair.