Illness is a clumsy attempt to arrive at health: we must come to nature's aid with intellect.

Not infrequently, we encounter copies of important human beings; and here, too, as in the case of paintings, most people prefer the copies to the originals.

Contentment preserves one from catching cold. Has a woman who knew that she was well dressed ever caught a cold? No, not even when she had scarcely a rag on her back.

Man is something to be surpassed.

Our destiny rules over us, even when we are not yet aware of it; it is the future that makes laws for our today.

Every habit makes our hand more witty and our wit less handy.

Men inadvertently comport themselves with nobility when they have grown accustomed to wanting nothing from others and always giving to them.