No wise man has called a change of opinion in constancy.

The mind becomes accustomed to things by the habitual sight of them, and neither wonders nor inquires about the reasons for things it sees all the time.

The nearer I approach death the more I feel like one who is in sight of land at last and is about to anchor in one's home port after a long voyage.

I will go further, and assert that nature without culture can often do more to deserve praise than culture without nature.

The injuries that befall us unexpectedly are less severe than those which are deliberately anticipated.

What is more agreeable than one's home?

I remember the very thing that I do not wish to; I cannot forget the things I wish to forget.