If our inward griefs were written on our brows, how many who are envied now would be pitied. It would seem that they had their deadliest foe in their own breast, and their whole happiness would be reduced to mere seeming.

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.

Cowards' weapons neither cut nor pierce.

An old warrior is never in haste to strike the blow.

If you wish to behold God, you may see Him in every object around; search in your breast, and you will find Him there. And if you do not yet perceive where He dwells, confute me, if you can, and say where He is not.

Prepare thy soul calmly to obey; such offering will be more acceptable to God than every other sacrifice.

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