It is a rare life that remains orderly even in private.

When all is summed up, a man never speaks of himself without loss; his accusations of himself are always believed; his praises never.

If there is such a thing as a good marriage, it is because it resembles friendship rather than love.

Virtue can have naught to do with ease. . . . It craves a steep and thorny path.

What enriches language is its being handled and exploited by beautiful minds-not so much by making innovations as by expanding it through more vigorous and varied applications, by extending it and deploying it. It is not words that they contribute: what they do is enrich their words, deepen their meanings and tie down their usage; they teach it unaccustomed rhythms, prudently though and with ingenuity.

Their [the Skeptics'] way of speaking is: "I settle nothing. . . . I do not understand it. . . . Nothing seems true that may not seem false." Their sacramental word is . . . , which is to say, I suspend my judgment.

No man profiteth but by the loss of others.