The sole cause of man's unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room.

Our soul is cast into a body, where it finds number, time, dimension. Thereupon it reasons, and calls this nature necessity, and can believe nothing else.

All our life passes in this way: we seek rest by struggling against certain obstacles, and once they are overcome, rest proves intolerable because of the boredom it produces.

The sum of a man's problems come from his inability to be alone in a silent room.

Love has reasons which reason cannot understand.

We never do evil so effectually as when we are led to do it by a false principle of conscience.

Man is but a reed, the most feeble thing in nature, but he is a thinking reed.