Our affections as well as our bodies are in perpetual flux.

You are worried about seeing him spend his early years in doing nothing. What! Is it nothing to be happy? Nothing to skip, play and run around all day long? Never in his life will he be so busy again.

The world of reality has its limits; the world of imagination is boundless.

Whatever may be our natural talents, the art of writing is not acquired all at once.

The mind grows narrow in proportion as the soul grows corrupt.

Virtue is a state of war, and to live in it we have always to combat with ourselves.

The thirst after happiness is never extinguished in the heart of man.