Common sense is the most fairly distributed thing in the world, for each one thinks he is so well-endowed with it that even those who are hardest to satisfy in all other matters are not in the habit of desiring more of it than they already have.
Illusory joy is often worth more than genuine sorrow.
Give me extension and motion and I will construct the universe.
Neither divine grace nor natural knowledge ever diminishes freedom.
But possibly I am something more than I suppose myself to be.
You just keep pushing. You just keep pushing. I made every mistake that could be made. But I just kept pushing.