There is no secret of the heart which our actions do not disclose.
They [zealots] would have everybody be as blind as themselves: to them, to be clear-sighted is libertinism.
It is a folly second to none; to try to improve the world.
We die only once, and for such a long time.
It is not only for what we do that we are held responsible, but also for what we do not do.
The maturing process of becoming a writer is akin to that of a harlot. First you do it for love, then for a few friends, and finally only for money.