Where is human nature so weak as in the bookstore?

When a nation's young men are conservative, its funeral bell is already rung.

No one can deal with the hearts of men unless he has the sympathy which is given by love.

Nothing can compare in beauty, and wonder, and admirableness, and divinity itself, to the silent work in obscure dwellings of faithful women bringing their children to honor and virtue and piety.

No man rides so high and in such good company as the man that allies himself to a truth.

Living is death; dying is life. We are not what we appear to be. On this side of the grave we are exiles, on that citizens; on this side orphans, on that children.

It's not work that kills [people], it is worry.