But the works of man are impotent against the assaults of nature . . .

We improve ourselves by victories over ourselves. There must be contest, and we must win.

But [the Arabs'] friendship was venal, their faith inconstant, their enmity capricious: it was an easier task to excite than to disarm these roving barbarians; and, in the familiar intercourse of war, they learned to see, and to despise, the splendid weakness both of Rome and of Persia.

The separation of the Arabs from the rest of mankind has accustomed them to confound the ideas of stranger and enemy.

Julian was not insensible of the advantages of freedom. From his studies he had imbibed the spirit of ancient sages and heroes; his life and fortunes had depended on the caprice of a tyrant; and, when he ascended the throne, his pride was sometimes mortified by the reflection that the slaves who would not dare to censure his defects were not worthy to applaud his virtues.

But the power of instruction is seldom of much efficacy, except in those happy dispositions where it is almost superfluous.

The history of empires is the record of human misery; the history of the sciences is that of the greatness and happiness of mankind.