Silence is like nightfall. Objects are lost in it insensibly.
As we advance in life the circle of our pains enlarges, while that of our pleasures contracts.
There are two ways of attaining an important end, force and perseverance; the silent power of the latter grows irresistible with time.
To have ideas is to gather flowers; to think is to weave them into garlands.
Loving souls are like paupers. They live on what is given them.
Our faults afflict us more than our good deeds console. Pain is ever uppermost in the conscience as in the heart.