Dreams are faithful interpreters of our inclinations; but there is art required to sort and understand them.

Who ever saw a doctor use the prescription of his colleague without cutting out or adding something?

We only labor to stuff the memory, and leave the conscience and the understanding unfurnished and void.

Philosophical discussions habitually make men happy and joyful not frowning and sad.

Other passions have objects to flatter them, and seem to content and satisfy them for a while; there is power in ambition, pleasure in luxury, and pelf in covetousness; but envy can gain nothing but vexation.

Is there anything so grave and serious as an ass?

Not because Socrates said so, but because it is in truth my own disposition — and perchance to some excess — I look upon all men as my compatriots, and embrace a Pole as a Frenchman, making less account of the national than of the universal and common bond.