It is a small soul, buried beneath the weight of affairs, that does not know how to get clean away from them, that cannot put them aside and pick them up again.

We perceive no charms that are not sharpened, puffed out, and inflated by artifice. Those which glide along naturally and simply easily escape a sight so gross as ours.

Not being able to govern events, I govern myself.

I seek in the reading of books, only to please myself, by an honest diversion.

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.

There are as many and innumerable degrees of wit, as there are cubits between this and heaven.

I have never seen a greater monster or miracle in the world than myself.