The end of reading is not more books but more life.

Originality is only variation.

People who want to be amused have lost the art of living.

Only one-fourth of the sorrow in each man's life is caused by outside uncontrollable elements, the rest is self-imposed by failing to analyze and act with calmness.

Books worth reading are worth re-reading.

Past and present, it is all the same, books are necromancers, they exercise an influence more varied, more lasting, than any magic known to man.

Why did Nature create man? Was it to show that she is big enough to make mistakes, or was it pure ignorance?