God has decreed that there be sick and poor in this world, but in the next it will be the other way around.

Love is the occupation of the idle man, the amusement of a busy one, and the shipwreck of a sovereign.

An army marches on its stomach.

To a father who loves his children victor has no charms. When the heart speaks, glory itself is an illusion.

People take England on trust, and repeat that Shakespeare is the greatest of all authors. I have read him: there is nothing that compares Racine or Corneille: his plays are unreadable, pitiful.

Forethought we may have, undoubtedly, but not foresight.

England is a nation of shopkeepers.