For me, my thoughts are my prostitutes.

We swallow with one gulp the lie that flatters us, and drink drop by drop the truth which is bitter to us.

Man was born to live with his fellow human beings. Separate him, isolate him, his character will go bad, a thousand ridiculous affects will invade his heart, extravagant thoughts will germinate in his brain, like thorns in an uncultivated land.

All things must be examined, debated, investigated without exception and without regard for anyone's feelings.

It is not the man who is beside himself, but he who is cool and collected,--who is master of his countenance, of his voice, of his actions, of his gestures, of every part of his play,--who can work upon others at his pleasure.

I feel, I think, I judge; therefore, a part of organized matter like me is capable of feeling, thinking, and judging.

You can be sure that a painter reveals himself in his work as much as and more than a writer does in his.