I do not know is a phrase which becomes us.

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

Love, known to the person by whom it is inspired, becomes more bearable.

Reason deceives us; conscience, never.

Free people, remember this maxim: we may acquire liberty, but it is never recovered if it is once lost.

I love idleness. I love to busy myself about trifles, to begin a hundred things and not finish one of them, to come and go as my fancy bids me, to change my plan every moment, to follow a fly in all its circlings, to try and uproot a rock to see what is underneath, eagerly to begin a ten-years' task to give it up after ten minutes: in short, to fritter away the whole day inconsequentially and incoherently, and to follow nothing but the whim of the moment.

With children use force; with men reason; such is the natural order of things. The wise man requires no law.