God often visits us, but most of the time we are not at home.

Solitude vivifies, isolation kills.

Literature was formerly an art and finance a trade; today it is the reverse.

Persons of delicate taste endure stupid criticism better than they do stupid praise.

We want our friend as a man of talent, less because he has talent than because he is our friend.

We distrust our heart too much, and our head not enough.

We often experience more regret over the part we have left, than pleasure over the part we have preferred.