It is putting a very high price on one's conjectures to have someone roasted alive on their account.

We should spread joy, but, as far as we can, repress sorrow.

Wine is the benevolent god, who gives back gaiety to men and restores youth to the old.

We have the pleasures suitable to our lot; let us not usurp those of greatness. Ours are more natural and all the more solid and sure for being humbler. Since we will not do so out of conscience, at least out of ambition let us reject ambition.

Who does not see that I have taken a road along which I shall go, without stopping and without effort, as long as there is ink and paper in the world? I cannot keep a record of my life by my actions; fortune places them too low. I keep it by my thoughts.

Books are a languid pleasure.

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