When an author is too meticulous about his style, you may presume that his mind is frivolous and his content flimsy.

Human affairs are like a chess-game: only those who do not take it seriously can be called good players. Life is like an earthen pot: only when it is shattered, does it manifest its emptiness.

Happy he whoe'er, content with the common lot, with safe breeze hugs the shore, and, fearing to trust his skiff to the wider sea, with unambitious oar keeps close to the land.

Nothing is void of God, his work is everywhere his full of himself.

Speech devoted to truth should be straightforward and plain

He may as well not thank at all, who thanks when none are by.

There's no delight in owning anything unshared.