We cease loving ourselves if no one loves us.

Who understands much, forgives much.

Happy the land where the writers are sad, the merchants satisfied, the rich melancholic, and the populace content.

Mystery such as is given of God is beyond the power of human penetration, yet not in opposition to it.

What matters in a character is not whether one holds this or that opinion: what matters is how proudly one upholds it.

Scientific progress makes moral progress a necessity; for if man's power is increased, the checks that restrain him from abusing it must be strengthened.

In women's destiny everything goes downhill except for thought, whose immortal nature it is to keep constantly rising.