We are like vessels tossed on the bosom of the deep; our passions are the winds that sweep us impetuously forward; each pleasure is a rock; the whole life is a wide ocean. Reason is the pilot to guide us, but often allows itself to be led astray by the storms of pride.

If the internal griefs of every man could be read, written on his forehead, how many who now excite envy would appear to be the objects of pity?

Of all faults the greatest is the excess of impious terror, dishonoring divine grace. He who despairs wants love, wants faith; for faith, hope, and love are three torches which blend their light together, nor does the one shine without the other.

Every noble acquisition is attended with its risks; he who fears to encounter the one must not expect to obtain the other.

Though the Indian ocean abounds in rich and rare gems, it does not boast a clearer sky nor more unruffled sea. If there be a shore that dreads not the fury of the faithless billows, it is some poor and narrow inlet unknown to the winds.

How full of error is the judgment of mankind! They wonder at results when they are ignorant of the reasons

The eye that gazes upon the sun sees not the orb it looks upon, confounded by the excess of its brightness.