The dull mind, once arriving at an inference that flatters the desire, is rarely able to retain the impression that the notion from which the inference started was purely problematic.

It so often happens that others are measuring us by our past self while we are looking back on that self with a mixture of disgust and sorrow.

Upon my word, I think the truth is the hardest missile one can be pelted with.

Don't let us rejoice in punishment, even when the hand of God alone inflicts it. The best of us are but poor wretches, just saved from shipwreck. Can we feel anything but awe and pity when we see a fellow-passenger swallowed by the waves?

The difficult task of knowing another soul is not for young gentlemen whose consciousness is chiefly made up of their own wishes.

Will not a tiny speck very close to our vision blot out the glory of the world, and leave only a margin by which we see the blot? I know no speck so troublesome as self.

Impatient people, according to Bacon, are like the bees, and kill themselves in stinging others.