For me, my thoughts are my prostitutes.
Happiest are the people who give most happiness to others.
Oh! how near are genius and madness! Men imprison them and chain them, or raise statues to them.
I discuss with myself questions of politics, love, taste, or philosophy. I let my mind rove wantonly, give it free rein to followany idea, wise or mad that may present itself. My ideas are my harlots.
You risk just as much in being credulous as in being suspicious.
What a fine comedy this world would be if one did not play a part in it.