I love victory, but I love not triumph.
There are questions so indiscreet, that they deserve neither truth nor falsehood in reply.
We must labor unceasingly to render our piety reasonable, and our reason pious.
We are rich only through what we give.
People read every thing nowadays, except books.
It would seem that by our sorrows only are we called to a knowledge of the Infinite. Are we happy? The limits of life constrain us on all sides.