Rest not. Life is sweeping by; go and dare before you die. Something mighty and sublime, leave behind to conquer time.

So then the year is repeating its old story again. We are come once more, thank God! to its most charming chapter. The violets and the Mayflowers are as its inscriptions or vignettes. It always makes a pleasant impression on us, when we open again at these pages of the book of life.

To be pleased with one's limits is a wretched state.

Traveling is like gambling: it is always connected with winning and losing and generally where it is least expected we receive, more or less than what we hoped for.

Investigate what is, and not what pleases.

How can one learn to know oneself? Never by introspection, rather by action.

To the man of thought almost nothing is really ridiculous.