Our second mother, habit, is also a good mother.
Solitude has a healing consoler, friend, companion: it is work.
Imagination is the mightiest despot.
All men are selfish, but the vain man is in love with himself. He admires, like the lover his adored one, everything which to others is indifferent.
He who, to be happy, needs nothing but himself, is happy.
When the foot of the' mountain is enveloped in mist, the mountain appears to us much loftier than it is; so also when the ground and basis of a disaster is not clear to us.