Indifference is the invisible giant of the world.

Petty laws breed great crimes.

Even of death Christianity has made a terror which was unknown to the gay calmness of the Pagan and the stoical repose of the Indian.

Power is sweet, and when you are a little clerk you love its sweetness quite as much as if you were an emperor, and maybe you love it a good deal more.

Indifference is the invincible grant of the world.

When you talk yourself, you think how witty, how original, how acute you are; but when another does so, you are very apt to think only - What a crib from Rochefoucauld!

When passion and habit long lie in company it is only slowly and with incredulity that habit awakens to finds its companion fled, itself alone.