Solitude causes us to write because it causes us to think.

Kings may see their palaces fall, but the ants will always have their dwellings.

The errors of the intellect are fatal, still more dangerous than those of the heart.

A little time separates us from those who depart - a time of tears, a time of sadness and solitude; but, that over, we go to rejoin them and to enjoy with them the society of the blessed. Oh, how sweetly the heart rests in this immortal hope!

Witticisms are fire-arms, that make a noise and give pain.

How long time is when one is sad! Is it three years or three days since you went away?

One fancies that what one loves cannot die.