The display of grief makes more demands than grief itself. How few men are sad in their own company.

We should conduct ourselves not as if we ought to live for the body, but as if we could not live without it.

We should every night call ourselves to an account: What infirmity have I mastered today? What passions opposed? What temptation resisted? What virtue acquired? Our vices will abate of themselves if they be brought every day to the shrift.

Drunkenness is simply voluntary insanity.

Those things which make the infernal regions terrible, the darkness, the prison, the river of flaming fire, the judgment seat, are all a fable, with which the poets amuse themselves, and by them agitate us with vain terrors.

For greed, all nature is too little.

Nothing is more honorable than a grateful heart.