Whatever is the object of a saint's hope is the subject of his prayer.

People have a peculiar pleasure in making converts, that is, in causing others to enjoy what they enjoy, thus finding their own likeness represented and reflected back to them.

We all walk in mysteries. We are surrounded by an atmosphere about which we still know nothing at all.

Why look for conspiracy when stupidity can explain so much

Nature has neither core nor skin: she’s both at once outside and in.

Colors are the deeds/ and sufferings of light.

A resolution that is communicated is no longer within thy power; thy attentions become now the plaything of chance; he who would have his commands certainly carried out must take man by surprise.