The universe is in France; outside it, there is nothing.

There are only two distinct classes of people on this earth, those who espouse enthusiasm and those who despise it.

Self-love, so sensitive in its own cause, has rarely any sympathy to spare for others.

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.

Genius inspires this thirst for fame: there is no blessing undesired by those to whom Heaven gave the means of winning it.

There is no second country for an Englishman, except a ship and the sea.