There is no royal road or ready way to virtue.

There are no grotesques in nature; not anything framed to fill up empty cantons, and unnecessary spaces.

Where I cannot satisfy my reason, I love to humour my fancy.

What song the Syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women, though puzzling questions, are not beyond all conjecture.

There is no man alone, because every man is a Microcosm, and carries the whole world about him.

To believe only possibilities is not faith, but mere Philosophy.

Oblivion is not to be hired.