The flowers of life are but illusions. How many fade away and leave no trace.

I am certain that I have been here as I am now a thousand times before, and I hope to return a thousand times.

There is a politeness of the heart; this is closely allied to love.

The suffering may be moral or physical; and in my opinion it is just as absurd to call a man a coward who destroys himself, as to call a man a coward who dies of a malignant fever.

There are men who never err, because they never propose anything rational.

Those who hope for no other life are dead even for this.

One man's word is no man's word; we should quietly hear both sides.