We hew and saw and plane facts to make them dovetail with our prejudices, so that they become mere ornaments with which to parade our objectivity.

There are those whose sole claim to profundity is the discovery of exceptions to the rules.

Reading the epitaphs, our only salvation lies in resurrecting the dead and burying the living.

Man is ready to die for an idea, provided that idea is not quite clear to him.

We mourn the transitory things and fret under the yoke of the immutable ones.

To judge a man's character by only one of its manifestations is like judging the sea by a jugful of its water.

If we were brought to trial for the crimes we have committed against ourselves, few would escape the gallows.