Travelling through the world produces a marvellous clarity in the judgment of men. We are all of us confined and enclosed within ourselves, and see no farther than the end of our nose.
It's not victory if it doesn't end the war.
Poverty of goods is easily cured; poverty of soul, impossible.
We should spread joy, but, as far as we can, repress sorrow.
A strong memory is commonly coupled with infirm judgment.
Judgement holds in me a magisterial seat, at least it carefully tries to. It lets my feelings go their way, both hatred and friendship, even the friendship I bear myself, without being changed and corrupted by them.