The curiosity of knowing things has been given to man for a scourge.

I have gathered a posy of other men’s flowers and only the thread that bonds them is my own.

Oh these foolish men! They could not create so much as a worm, but they create gods by the dozens.

To how many blockheads of my time has a cold and taciturn demeanor procured the credit of prudence and capacity!

I enjoy books as misers enjoy treasures, because I know I can enjoy them whenever I please.

I care not so much what I am to others as what I am to myself. I will be rich by myself, and not by borrowing.

All I say is by way of discourse, and nothing by way of advice. I should not speak so boldly if it were my due to be believed.