Tis a human trait to hate one you have wronged

Our posterity will wonder about our ignorance of things so plain.

Nature does not reveal all her secrets at once. We imagine we are initiated in her mysteries: we are, as yet, but hanging around her outer courts.

What else is nature but God?

Shall I tell you what the real evil is? To cringe to the things that are called evils, to surrender to them our freedom, in defiance of which we ought to face any suffering.

Unfamiliarity lends weight to misfortune, and there was never a man whose grief was not heightened by surprise.

Something that can never be learnt too thoroughly can never be said too often.