I write to keep from going mad from the contradictions I find among mankind - and to work some of those contradictions out for myself.

Nothing prints more lively in our minds than something we wish to forget.

It costs an unreasonable woman no more to pass over one reason than another; they cherish themselves most where they are most wrong.

Those who have compared our life to a dream were right... we were sleeping wake, and waking sleep.

Poverty of goods is easily cured; poverty of soul, impossible.

We must reserve a back shop all our own entirely free, in which to establish our real liberty and our principal retreat and solitude.

I am disgusted with innovation, in whatever guise, and with reason, for I have seen very harmful effects of it.