In a way, the main fault of all books is that they are too long.

The maxims of men reveal their characters.

The greatest evil that fortune can bring to men is to endow them with feeble resources and yet to make them ambitious.

There does not exist a man sufficiently intelligent never to be tiresome.

Men sometimes feel injured by praise because it assigns a limit to their merit; few people are modest enough not to take offense that one appreciates them.

As a house implies a builder, and a garment a weaver, and a door a carpenter, so does the existence of the Universe imply a Creator.

Every thought is new when an author expresses it in a manner peculiar to himself.