Truth is always present; it only needs to lift the iron lids of the mind's eye to read its oracles.

It is the same among the men and women, as among the silent trees; always a referred existence, an absence, never a presence and satisfaction. Is it, that beauty can never be grasped? In persons and in landscape is equally inaccessible?

If a man lose his balance, and immerse himself in any trades or pleasures for their own sake, he may be a good wheel or pin, but he is not a cultivated man.

Nature is a mutable cloud which is always and never the same.

The reason why the world lacks unity, and lies broken and in heaps, is, because man is disunited with himself.

There is no one who does not exaggerate. In conversation, men are encumbered with personality, and talk too much.

The secret of fortune is joy in our hands.