It is a disgraceful thing to be ignorant.

We are never satisfied with having done well; and in endeavoring to do better, we do much worse.

The heart has no wrinkles.

Gloom and sadness are poison to us, and the origin of hysterics. You are right in thinking that this disease is in the imagination; you have defined it perfectly; it is vexation which causes it to spring up, and fear that supports it.

. . . this life is a perpetual chequer-work of good and evil, pleasure and pain. When in possession of what we desire, we are only so much the nearer losing it; and when at a distance from it, we live in expectation of enjoying it again.

Ah, what a grudge I owe physicians! what mummery is their art!

It is not always sorrow that opens the fountains of the eyes.