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.

Gratitude is a soil on which joy thrives.

The vain being is the really solitary being.

Only he is free who cultivates his own thoughts and strives without fear to do justice to them.

We hear the rain fall, but not the snow. Bitter grief is loud, calm grief is silent.

Some men, like modern shops, hang everything in their show windows; when one goes inside, nothing is to be found.

Discontent is the source of all trouble,but also of all progress, in individuals and nations.