Individuality is to be preserved and respected everywhere, as the root of everything good.

What makes old age so sad is, not that our joys, but that our hopes then cease.

With so many thousand joys, is it not black ingratitude to call the world a place of sorrow and torment?

If self-knowledge is the road to virtue, so is virtue still more the road to self-knowledge.

Sorrows are like thunderclouds, in the distance they look black, over our heads scarcely gray.

For sleep, riches and health to be truly enjoyed and gratefully appreciated, they must be interrupted so the person can see that not having them is not as good as having them.

It is not the end of joy that makes old age so sad, but the end of hope.