The less we deserve good fortune, the more we hope for it.

We die only once, and for such a long time.

Esteem must be founded on some sort of preference. Bestow it on everybody and it ceases to have any meaning at all.

Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and then for money.

The art of flatterers is to take advantage of the foibles of the great, to foster their errors, and never to give advice which may annoy.

Words and deeds are far from being one. Much that is talked about is left undone.

Its as if you think you'd never find Reason and the Sacred intertwined