To have ideas is to gather flowers; to think is to weave them into garlands.

By becoming unhappy, we sometimes learn how to be less so.

We do not judge men by what they are in themselves, but by what they are relatively to us.

We are all of us, in this world, more or less like St. January, whom the inhabitants of Naples worship one day, and pelt with baked apples the next.

When we see the shameful fortunes amassed in all quarters of the globe, are we not impelled to exclaim that Judas' thirty pieces of silver have fructified across the centuries?

Those who have suffered much are like those who know many languages; they have learned to understand and be understood by all.

The world has no sympathy with any but positive griefs. It will pity you for what you lose; never for what you lack