The celebrated painter Gainsborough got as much pleasure from seeing violins as from hearing them.

Diogenes, filthily attired, paced across the splendid carpets in Plato's dwelling. Thus, said he, do I trample on the pride of Plato. Yes, Plato replied, but only with another kind of pride.

If there were only turnips and potatoes in the world, someone would complain that plants grow the wrong way.

Every condition of the soul has its own sign and expression...So you will see how hard it is to seem original without being so.

Here take back the stuff that I am, nature, knead it back into the dough of being, make of me a bush, a cloud, whatever you will, even a man, only no longer make me.

To do just the opposite is also a form of imitation.

If all else fails, the character of a man can be recognized by nothing so surely as by a jest which he takes badly.