I freeze and burn, love is bitter and sweet, my sighs are tempests and my tears are floods, I am in ecstasy and agony, I am possessed by memories of her and I am in exile from myself.

I have taken pride in others, never in myself.

Death is a sleep that ends our dreaming. Oh, that we may be allowed to wake before death wakes us.

Often have I wondered with much curiosity as to our coming into this world and what will follow our departure.

The end of doubt is the beginning of repose.

Books never pall on me. They discourse with us, they take counsel with us, and are united to us by a certain living chatty familiarity. And not only does each book inspire the sense that it belongs to its readers, but it also suggests the name of others, and one begets the desire of the other.

I have friends whose society is delightful to me; they are persons of all countries and of all ages; distinguished in war, in council, and in letters; easy to live with, always at my command.