Since there must be chimeras, why is not perfection the chimera of all men?
Time is the shower of Danae; each drop is golden.
In this world of change naught which comes stays and naught which goes is lost.
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.
Those who make us happy are always thankful to us for being so; their gratitude is the reward of their benefits.
The most culpable of the excesses of Liberty is the harm she does herself.