When we have got it, we want something else.
We are nothing but ceremony; ceremony carries us away, and we leave the substance of things; we hang on to the branches and abandon the trunk and body.
Nothing prints more lively in our minds than something we wish to forget.
Vexations may be petty, but they are vexations still.
Death, they say, acquits us of all obligations.
The first lessons with which we should irrigate his mind should be those which teach him to know himself, and to know how to die ... and to live.