Few men are raised in our estimation by being too closely examined.

I am not deep, but I am very wide.

Several sorts of memory exist in us; body and mind each possesses one peculiar to itself. Nostalgia, for instance, is a malady of the physical memory.

To say to a rich man: You are poor! is to tell the Archbishop of Granada that his sermons are worthless.

Rare is the man who suffers no remorse as he passes from the state of confidant to that of rival.

Tradesmen regard an author with a mixed feeling of terror, compassion and curiosity.

If the human heart sometimes finds moments of pause as it ascends the slopes of affection, it rarely halts on the way down.