True felicity consists of its own consciousness.
To lose one's self in reverie, one must be either very happy, or very unhappy. Reverie is the child of extremes.
Indolence and stupidity are first cousins.
Gold like the sun, which melts wax, but hardens clay, expands great souls.
Reason is an historian, but the passions are actors.
Reason is the historian, but passions are the actors.