Goethe has made a remark upon the perfectability of the human mind, which is full of sagacity: It is always advancing, but in a spiral line.

We cease loving ourselves if no one loves us.

there is not enough interest in life to spread over twenty-four hours when one can't sleep.

A religious life is a struggle and not a hymn.

[On Napoleon:] One has the impression of an imperious wind blowing about one's ears when one is near that man.

Gaiety pleases more when we are assured that it does not cover carelessness.

The language of religion can alone suit every situation and every mode of feeling.